If All Was Fair In Love And War
by StormyEyesForever
Summary: America's version of The Enemy: A group of kids are just trying to survive one day at a time. Some are plagued by nightmares or guilt, lost love or lost innocence. Some parts are very gruesome and graphic. This should make sense even if you haven't read The Enemy. Mature content, lots of depressing themes.
1. Jocelyn- Hairline Fracture

**Remy is not my character, he is owned by Strider 144. **

**All other characters are my own. **

**Plot and concept inspired by Charles Higson's **_**The Enemy**_**. **

**I listened to Hairline Fracture- Rise Against this entire chapter. **

Chapter One: Hairline Fracture

I figured that living in hell would be easier than this. In hell, there was nobody you loved. In hell, there was nothing to lose.

Well, I figured that if I was in hell in the first place, there couldn't have been anything left to lose.

I didn't know what kind of prank the universe was pulling on me, but it was a cruel one.

Walking through New York City—or what's left of it—has proved to be worthless. The disease struck in the bigger cities first, and supplies would be long gone. But Freak insisted there had to be something somewhere.

Yeah, there's definitely something, I thought.

Eight months ago, a little virus spread. Eventually, a little virus became an epidemic. Then a pandemic. Everyone waited for the doctors and scientists to fill their empty promises, waited for a cure.

Ironically, the last sane words that my father ever said were "At least it doesn't affect the kids."

Yeah, real fantastic. The more kids, the more snacks for the diseased adults.

The worst part was that they weren't dead. Not really. They just get sick, and suddenly they're attacking their kids or babies or anything they can take a bite out of. Kenny argues that they're less than dead to him, that I should never be hesitant to stick my knife in them.

And so I wasn't.

Kenny knew I was tough. I knew it, too. I've been through the worst of it. Or so some thought.

Who knows what else they could put me through, I thought bitterly.

Kenny, and Freak and I are a part of a group of survivors. Kids whose ages ranged from 5 to 16. Kids whose parents are dead, or worse.

"Joccy," Connor complained from beside me, referring to me with my loathed nickname, "How much longer are we going to walk?"

Usually, the kids go to Mary, who is sort of the "mother". But Mary isn't the leader, so I am stuck with these sorts of complaints. "We'll get there when we get there," I muttered.

"But where are we going?"

"Does it matter?" I snapped, but Freak sent me a look. I sighed and looked down at the young boy. "We're just looking for a safe place to stop for the day. We can't scavenge without a base."

Connor nodded and ran to the back of the group, no doubt to where the other kids were waiting for an answer. Most of them didn't talk to me unless they had to. I was a little intimidating. I had gotten used to the fact, and so have they.

Maybe it was because of my cropped hair, or the daggers strapped to my legs. Could it be the fact that I had several scars up and down my arms? Or bruises in places that I couldn't constantly cover with clothes?

I adjusted my bow to fit more comfortably. My bow was the first weapon I reached for in battle. It's irrational—well, in my point of view—but I hated getting near anyone with the disease. I'd rather shoot them from a distance. I once confided to Freak about this, one of those rarer moments when I opened up, and he looked at me strangely. When I asked him why he said it was because everybody hated it. Everybody.

Finally, we reached Central Park.

I spun around to face the group. "Alright everyone, this is where we will be staying for a while. There will be no straying from camp and no exploring the forest region. No drinking water that someone hasn't checked. You know the drill when setting up camp."

These rules applied to everyone except a few. Without further ado, the group trudged passed me and into the clearing. Kenny was left, looking at me. He walked up to me, and placed his hand on my arm. It took everything in me not to jerk it away. I took a deep breath.

"Jocelyn," he said softly. "I think maybe you should calm down for the day. We're good with supplies, and I don't think that the kids have enough energy to cause much trouble."

I kept my eyes trained on a tree behind him. "Fine."

He sighed, though. "You won't listen to me. You never listen to me."

I frowned.

He leaned down and, as though asking for permission paused, a couple of inched away from my face.

I shook my head and gently pushed him away. "No, Kenny."

He stared at me. "Right. Yeah." He walked passed me and to the camp.

I flinched. It was hard for me, and Kenny knew that.

After a few minutes of securing perimeter, I headed back to check the progress. Sleeping bags were being laid down and Kenny and some others were working on a fire.

"Nice, huh?" Freak said from behind her. "Seems like a summer camp."

"Yeah," Jocelyn said, not bothering to turn around. "Unless someone gets killed."

"There's that. Are you okay?" Freak paused. "Stupid question. Nobody's okay."

I didn't answer. We had a few hours before sunset, but I had been up for almost two whole days. Now that we'd stopped, I could feel the effects on my body. Suddenly my legs felt like weights, and I had trouble keeping my eyes open. Freak seemed to notice, like he always does, and led me to my sleeping bag.

I was asleep before my head hit the ground.

I opened my eyes. I wasn't in Central Park. I was in a grey room with no windows. A basement.

In the middle of the room was a table. There was a man strapped to it. Upon further investigation, I also saw a mirror in the corner.

Not again. Please, not again.

The man didn't have time to wake up before I did. I gasped, sitting upright as a reluctant Mary stood over me.

"You started talking again," she said, her cheeks pink. "About your dad."

Nobody knew exactly what happened to my dad except me. And I didn't plan to tell anyone. It wasn't hard to guess, anyway.

"Sorry," I nearly growled. I wasn't frustrated with her, just myself. It was ridiculous that I was helpless once I was asleep. Completely helpless.

I hated it.

Once she walked away, I noticed it was in the middle of the night, as far as I could judge. Everyone was asleep except the people on watch. Right now it was Talia and Payton, a couple that met after the pandemic; Lily, a blonde girl who didn't say much; and Perry, a tall kid with skin as dark as his eyes.

I thought about getting up. But then I saw Kenny and Freak walking around together and decided against it.

It was odd, just lying there. The sky didn't look like the sky anymore, but maybe that was just me. It was weird, like looking into space. These last few days have been hectic, and it was strange to relax my muscles. They ached, I noticed, and I groaned. They would be worse tomorrow.

I was more in shape than any of the others, except maybe Kenny. But there wasn't much you could do to prevent soreness when you're constantly running and fighting.

I don't know how long it took for me to fall asleep again. But once I closed my eyes, I was shook awake. But it wasn't Mary this time.

"Someone tried to steal some supplies," Kenny said. "We have him tied up now. I would have killed him, but… I figured you'd want otherwise."

I would. I quickly got up and pushed passed him. It aggravated me sometimes, how emotionless Kenny could be towards people that he didn't know or need. He may be essential to our survival, but he was fatal to anyone else's.

As Kenny said, the boy was tied up. Not well, though. Looking at the ropes, I knew I could have easily gotten out of it. Looking at the boy, I knew he could to.

The last time we caught someone, he wouldn't look at anyone. He was too ashamed, I supposed. We offered for him to stay with us, after a lot of arguing with Kenny, but he decided to venture on his own. The way he worked, he said. We stumbled across his body a couple days later.

This boy was different. He looked straight at me, and I felt uneasy. His eyes bore into my blue ones, and I knew this kid probably had some experience. His shaggy black hair made it so that I couldn't make out the color of his eyes, but the intensity was still there. When he looked me over, he grinned.

"What are you smiling at?" I asked disgustedly.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, chérie." He had a slight accent, but I couldn't tell from where.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out a dagger. He eyed it wearily. "Want to give me an idea as to why you were invading my camp?"

He raised his eyebrow. "Your camp?"

"Got a problem with that?"

He shrugged. "I was hungry. You had food."

"We could kill you, you know."

"No, you won't. Otherwise pretty boy over there would have done it. He got you instead. That means he knew you would mind it, and that means you have a conscience. And that would make you the same as the adults, right?"

"Why didn't you escape?" I asked. This kid was smart.

He didn't need to ask what I was talking about. "None of your business, chérie. There were some complications."

"If I have a conscience, so do you. You're too smart to run into any complications. Maybe you saw us and you decided you couldn't steal from a bunch of kids," I said, staring at him.

He smirked. "Maybe."

I suppressed the urge to laugh. It was completely ridiculous. This person was dangerous, though maybe not to us yet. He couldn't have been older than sixteen, a year older than me. No signs of insanity.

"Your name?" I asked.

"Remy, but you can call me anything you want," he winked and I gritted my teeth.

"Well, Remy," I said through my teeth. "What do you suppose I do about your invasion?"

"Let me join your group. I can help you."

"Can you?" I was surprised by his straightforwardness.

"Yeah," he said, with that same smirk. "You'll just have to trust me."

"I don't trust anyone," I said dismissively.

"Ouch. Daddy issues?"

I stepped back like I'd been touched with a hot blade. My breathing quickened for a moment before I got control of myself. Get. Control. I stood up straight and my expression hardened.

He noticed. And now he knew something about me, and I only knew his name. But he didn't say anything about it, and only acknowledged it with a tilt of his head.

"Jocelyn," Kenny said from a few feet behind me. "I don't think we should let him stay. I mean, we already have enough mouths to feed—"

"Yeah, but you see," Remy drawled, "I can help you with the food situation. As the girl here noticed, I'm a spectacular thief."

"She has a name," I heard Freak growl.

"He'll stay," I announced.

"What?" Kenny and Freak asked at the same time.

"He can stay," I said, looking at the boy. "But if I find you even looking at one of my kids wrong, I'll kill you myself."

Even though Kenny and Freak visibly cringed at the tone of my voice, the boy didn't budge.

"Gladly," he said. "Now, can I stop pretending to be tied up?"

"Sure," I said. "We'll talk tomorrow with the group. For now, Remy, you're going to be sleeping near _me_."

Kenny spoke up. "Jocelyn, I'm not sure if that's the best idea."

"Hey, the lady spoke," Remy said, getting off the ground and shaking off the ropes with ease. "If she wants to sleep with me, then I'm all for it. I have that effect on people."

I clenched my fist and turned toward him, in his face. "Newsflash," I said menacingly, "If you even try to touch me in my sleep I'll have slit your throat before I'm even fully awake. Don't. Touch. Me."

He backed up a little, and looked at me strangely. "No problem," he said, staring at me. "Don't suppose anyone's feeling real touchy these days."

I trembled as I walked him to where he would be sleeping. I checked him for weapons, and told the people on watch to remind the next shift to keep an eye on him. When I finally did lay down, I glanced over to the strange boy. He was staring at the sky. Eventually his eyes closed, looking at that sky. And my eyes closed minutes after staring at him.

I slept dreamlessly. I didn't know there was such thing as a lazy day in Hell, but when I woke up that's what I felt like having. Of course, there was the issue of Remy.

When he saw me, he was already getting into trouble with Kenny and Remy. When he saw me, he grinned. "Fancy seeing you here, chérie. I was just asking these very generous people if I could possibly attain some breakfast."

I held my hand up before Freak could say anything. "Get him some dried jerky. And a water."

I sat down across form Remy as he ate. It was as though he hadn't eaten in a while. He probably hadn't.

"So," I said, as he looked up to me. "I'll enlighten you on how things work around here."

He leaned forward, and I stiffened. "Look, sweetheart, I know you think you're the big boss around here, but I think you and I both know that's a load of bull. So cut the crap."

My hand twitched toward my dagger but I took a deep breath. "You won't be comfortable. I'm not expecting you to _like it_. We're not here to _have fun_. I'm here to make decisions to keep people safe. If you don't want to follow those decisions, you can leave." I paused. "We have young children here. If you screw up once, it'll be the last time you screw up. I'm not going to risk them for _you_."

He sat back, looking at me curiously. I almost looked away, but instead I stared at him back.

"Fine," he said finally. "We'll see how that goes, chérie."

I left him there, still nibbling on his jerky.

I gathered the group eventually, and I couldn't help but notice some confusion when they all noticed the new kid. "This is Remy," I said evenly, looking at them all. "He's going to be joining us."

I didn't say anything else. I simply walked away to recheck the perimeter.

After a few minutes, I heard someone coming up from behind me. I reached and grabbed my dagger, spinning around and pressing it to the person's throat.

Remy froze. "Easy," he said, slowly putting a hand on my wrist and pulling it away from his jugular.

"Sorry," I said flatly, but kept the dagger.

"I'm sure you are," he said, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone has those moments."

I glared at him. "Are you looking to get punched?"

He held his hands up and smirked.

"Go away," I said, turning around and continuing my check. From the sound of it, he did.

When I did get back to where the others were, Remy was sitting with Valorie, a girl with long blonde curls and a pretty face.

To make a long story short, Valorie hated me. Mostly because Kenny wouldn't make out with her.

Obviously, Remy was flirting with the girl. And she was flirting back. When I got close enough, I could catch what they were saying.

"So, you _actually_ snuck in here last night? Ha! Leave it up to our ferocious leader to let that happen," Valorie said, practically hanging off Remy.

Remy opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw me. I walked passed them, not really caring what a couple of people thought about me. Especially not Valorie.

I heard Valorie laugh particularly loud as I passed them.

I went to Freak, who was just getting out some tents from the supply pile. We didn't want to set them up last night, in case of an emergency.

He noticed me when he had one tent already set up. "Oh, hey," he said, smiling.

"Hey," I said, trying for a smile.

"Want to look inside? It was pretty smart to raid that sports store."

"Sure," I said, ducking into the tent. It was a large one, big enough for at least ten smaller kids. We only had about thirty people, so we would have plenty of room for everyone once the other tents were set up. "It's nice," I noted, suddenly aware of Freak right behind me.

We call him Freak because that's the name he came with. He's never told me his real name.

"Jocelyn," he said, "Look, I don't know what's going on between you and Kenny, but—"

"Nothing is going on between Kenny and me," I said, shaking my head. It wasn't entirely true, but the fact of the matter was I didn't know myself.

"Then what about you and me?"

My head panged. I didn't have the energy for this. "Freak, I—"

"Look, just give me a chance. Okay?" He put his hands on my waist and I felt very claustrophobic.

"Stop," I said, not looking at him.

"Jocelyn, you told me… you told me you didn't know what you felt. So let me show you how _I_ feel." He leaned in, and I closed my eyes.

"She _did_ tell you to stop," I jumped violently and only had time to see Remy standing at the entrance of the tent before stumbling into him. He grabbed my arm and steadied me.

"Jesus," Freak said, "Can't you mind your own business?"

"You were going to kiss her after she told you no."

"I wasn't hurting her," Freak protested. "I just wanted to show her… why am I explaining anything to you?"

Remy looked at Freak. "Try kissing her when she asks you to. You might get a better reaction then."

I looked at Remy and then at Freak. Freak stared at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to stand up for him.

I shook my head and left the tent, not bothering to stop when Freak called my name.

I avoided Freak for most of the day. In the meantime, the group had set up more tents. When we raided the store, which was a little more than a week ago, everyone wanted their own. I reasoned that to make it easier, you should pick two people to "room" with. Of course, with the littler kids it was easier because they all wanted to be together. They took turns dragging tents, which I made them swear to let go of at the first sign of trouble. It paid off, though. We did have a wagon in which we carried a lot of stuff in, and everyone had their own backpack. The shop was also decked with clothes made for athletes, which made it a lot more comfortable.

We would have stayed there, except we sent a scavenging team consisting of five people out and only one came back.

Anyways, I had my own tent. Yeah, it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"This isn't very fair," Remy observed. "I don't have my own tent."

"You could sleep out on the hard earth," I suggested, setting up my tent.

"Well, you know, I'd feel a lot safer with you. You being a ferocious leader and all. Plus, it would be easier for you to keep an eye on me."

"Fine," I said.

"You don't spend much time arguing, do you?"

"Not if I can avoid it," I said. "And if I said no, you'd do something stupid and I'd insist you sleep in my tent. Just remember: I will stab you. While asleep. If you touch me."

"No worries," he said. "I remember."

That night I shoved my sleeping bag to the farthest end of my tent that I could, putting as much distance between Remy and me as I could. I didn't bother mentioning the arrangement to Kenny or Freak.

I made one round to see if someone in each tent had a flashlight. Most kids carried one in their bags. A lot of them were scared of the dark. I didn't blame them. Scary things came in the dark.

When I got back to my tent, Remy was already asleep. Good. I laid down and closed my eyes, and imagined the sky before the world got screwed up.

Suddenly I was jerked into the room again. No windows, not even doors. Just the man and the mirror.

For some reason I was crying. Hysterically. I couldn't stop the tears pouring from my eyes. My vision became blurry and I couldn't breathe out of my nose. I was suffocating. I was dying.

"Jocelyn!"

"Don't touch me!" I gasped and sat upright. My hand reached for my dagger but it wasn't there. I swung blindly, but a hand caught my fist.

"Stop," Remy said. "It was just a stupid nightmare."

I probably looked like a deer in headlights. I pulled my fists to my chest.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I said stiffly and began to lie back down.

"Yeah, totally," Remy said, shuffling back to his side of the tent. "Just don't do it again, alright?"

I could hear the attempt at a joke in his voice. My head was pounding when I closed my eyes again. Maybe this time around I could be dreamless…

But suddenly I couldn't breathe again. My vision eventually cleared, but I couldn't seem to inhale. It wasn't until I saw the man start struggling barbarically to get away from his binds that I forgot I needed to.

"Stop!" I scream, standing unsteadily. I run over to the man and push him down. The only thing I could process was his light blue eyes.

But the binds were becoming undone. I jumped away as the man broke free, right into the mirror. "Stay away," I warned, and kicked the man in the chest. "Stay away from me!"

"Jesus."

I jerked violently but into a pair of arms. I thrashed and kicked until I realized Remy was holding my arms by my sides and using his body weight to hold me down. My breathing suddenly quickened, and he got the message. He slowly released me, holding his hands up.

"Where. Is. My. Dagger?" I nearly spat out.

"I threw it outside. I didn't want you stabbing me when I tried to help you out of your nightmare."

I glared at him. "What part of 'don't touch me' don't you understand?"

"The 'don't' part."

I had the mind to strangle him.

"I'm just kidding," he said, "but I wanted to help you. So calm down."

"I. Can't." And I realized it was true. My heart was still racing.

So Remy sat next to me. "What are you doing?" I recoiled away from him.

"Just helping," he said as he sat back, closing his eyes. I stared at him for a long while before closing my eyes, too. My breathing eventually met his heartbeat.

Sometimes I wished I would never wake up.

**Okay, that's it for this chapter. I hope all you **_**The Enemy**_** fans liked this. This was just a pretty short introduction to my story.**

**I really appreciate reviews!**


	2. Remy- A Flaw in the Plan

**Enjoy, everyone. I appreciate review.**

**Remy belongs to Strider 144. **

**Sicko concept belongs to Charles Higson. **

Chapter Two: Flaw in the Plan

I was born a thief. Or so anybody who was made aware of my "talents" assumed.

For a while, this new world was like my playground. No cops to stop me, nobody to say "Now Remy, where are your parents?"

Nobody except the sickos that roam the streets, munching on kids.

So yeah, I was on my own for a while. It wasn't hard to pick up food in the beginning, when the sickos were slower and stupid.

The thing was, I wasn't—compared to the standards of the idiots walking around surviving—exactly trustworthy. I'd try to steal from a group before I joined it. It's just what I knew. So when I came across the thirty-some kids all huddled in Central Park, my eyes lit up like a boy on Christmas morning.

Except there were kids. I sighed.

Little kids.

We're all kids, I guessed, but that didn't stop me from hesitating at their supply pack. I wondered how much this group struggled as it was. I looked over their faces. Decided that maybe I could take a little less this time—

When two pairs of hands clapped on my shoulders, I struggled. I would not get killed like this.

"Stop struggling and let us tie you up," A female voice commanded. "You're not doing yourself a favor by running. Kenny will catch up to you before anyone could wake Jocelyn."

I didn't know who they were referring to, but I got the message. Kenny must be the ringleader around here. So I let them tie me up with their petty knots, and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It would only take me standing up and shaking the ropes off to get away.

There were two girls standing in front of me, crossing their arms.

"Mary's already gone to get Kenny," one of them said.

The other girl looked confused. "Talia, if it's Kenny, he'll kill the kid."

The girl named Talia sighed. "Not if he doesn't want to make Jocelyn completely pissed."

"Is this Kenny your leader?" I asked, staring at the two.

The nameless girl laughed. "Oh, no. Maybe in the earlier days, but no. Jocelyn is."

Jocelyn was obviously a girl, and she led this whole little expedition? I found it hard to believe, and wondered how she could keep control over all of these people without the intimidation that Kenny obviously had.

Speaking of the devil, a guy was walking my way with another, smaller girl. At first I had assumed _that _was Jocelyn, but brushed the thought off. This girl looked too gentle. It must be Mary.

Kenny was larger than I was, and I would put money on the fact that he played several sports before the sickos took over. His blond hair was cut short, unlike my shaggy black hair.

"Alright kid," Kenny growled at me. "What do you think you're doing?"

His tone irritated me. "Stealing some food," I said simply, not taking my eyes off him.

Before I could react, Kenny punched me in the gut. The wind was knocked out of me, and I struggled to breathe. I resisted the urge to bolt, but I knew I wouldn't make it very far. Kenny raised his fist to punch me again, but the girl Talia stopped him and whispered something to him. He hesitated, and then nodded, and stomped away towards the sleeping bag area.

I sat there, trying to control my breath. I glared at the girls, who just chatted among themselves.

Once I was confident I could talk, Kenny was coming back. I braced myself until I saw another girl, and I knew she was Jocelyn.

Her hair was short, like Kenny's, but her face screamed female. Her pale skin complimented the shade of blue her eyes were, but it was her eyes that stopped me. They were cold, and hard, like a statue. I grinned.

"What are you smiling at?" She asked when she was close enough, glaring at me.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, chérie," I said honestly.

-o-o-o-

It wasn't hard to find Jocelyn at that camp. She had this effect on people, like everywhere she went people were either cringing away or asking for advice. I wondered how she did it.

But when I did find her in that tent with the boy, after she had told him to stop, I certainly wasn't scared. In fact, I felt like punching the kid she was with.

And I could see right through her. In the end, she was a caged animal. Just like we all were.

-o-o-o-

The daddy issues comment must have hit the spot with this chick, because that's all she talked about once she was asleep. I lied there for a while, but I realized I should probably wake her up.

"Get away from me," she said, thrashing in her sleeping bag. "Dad, stop!"

I sat up and looked over to her. Her dagger was near her hand, so I took it, opened the tent flap, and tossed it outside. Then I kneeled next to her and shook her shoulder. She didn't wake up, and instead thrashed more. I groaned when she hit me in the face.

"Hey, wake up," I said. She didn't. "Jocelyn!"

"Don't touch me!" She bolted upright, just missing my head. She punched at me, and I could see tears running down her face.

"Stop," I said, grabbing her wrists and holding them together. "It was just a stupid nightmare."

-o-o-o-

When it happened again, I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Stay away!" She'd yell, and I wondered if the others in the group were used to this by now.

Sighing, I scooted over to her. "Jesus," I muttered and no sooner than I held her down that she jerked awake. I could feel her frantically pushing against me, and my grip tightened. Suddenly her breathing came in short, quick bursts, and I loosened up. I held my hands up, not wanting to get punched again.

If looks could kill, I'd be in the grave by now. "Where. Is. My. Dagger?"

"I threw it outside. I didn't want you stabbing me when I tried to help you out of your nightmare."

When she made the comment about me touching her, I flinched. I remembered the other tent, when I told the kid who was trying to kiss her to beat it. Instead of showing it, though, I just said "The 'don't' part."

Man, I'm a jerk.

"I'm just kidding," I said. "But I wanted to help you. So calm down."

When it was apparent that she couldn't, I slumped next to her. "Just helping," I had said. Maybe this time I could stop the nightmare before they started. I closed my eyes, not bothering to see her further reaction. I hoped it wouldn't be like this every night.

"What's the meaning of this?!" A harsh voice woke me up and I immediately got into a crouching position. Jocelyn woke at once, also, reaching for her missing dagger. She sent me a glare. I looked towards the voice, and it was Kenny, at the opening of the tent.

"What's he doing in here?" Kenny demanded.

"Why are you even in here, Kenny?" Jocelyn asked, frowning. "This is my tent."

Kenny paused. "I saw your dagger outside and thought you might be in trouble. I didn't know you had guests."

I was confused until I thought about how it must look. I was sleeping right next to the girl.

"I wanted to keep an eye on him," Jocelyn protested.

"Yeah, it sure looked like it," Kenny stomped off and I wanted to laugh. I didn't have the chance to, though, because Jocelyn shoved me away from her.

"What's your problem?" I asked. "Did I mess things up with your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Jocelyn said, a cutting edge to her voice.

"You sure have a lot of fans."

She punched me in the face. I stared at her in shock as I wiped some blood dripping from my mouth. "You're crazy," I said, glaring at her.

She didn't say anything, but walked angrily out of the tent.

My mouth ached. My lip was busted. I spit some blood outside, and walked back in and grabbed my jacket. I felt like punching something.

Maybe teamwork wasn't my thing.

When I finally left the tent, I could feel everyone's stares. I stared back, and it wasn't long until they turned their heads away, dropping the gaze. I smirked.

I walked out of their camping range, and near where Jocelyn always checked perimeter. I didn't have to wait long until I saw her. She wasn't checking anything, but rather was running.

It was easy to catch up to her. I spent my whole life running.

"What do you want?" She asked as I ran beside her.

"Do you run every morning?"

"It's not really a choice most of the time." She said.

"Fair enough."

She stopped in her tracks and looked at me warily. "We're sending out scavenging parties today. You said that you would be useful, so you're going."

I withheld a sigh. "Okay."

"Okay," she nodded abruptly. "Everyone should be awake by now. Better to start early."

We walked back together, or as together could get. I went ahead with my hands shoved in my pockets while she trailed a few feet behind me. When we got to where everyone was, Jocelyn called for everyone's attention. People gathered around her like she was a shepherd and they were the sheep.

"Alright," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "We're going scavenging today. We'll send out three groups of three. You know the drill: only kids twelve and over can go, which, by my count, means twenty-two of you are eligible."

She didn't have to say anything further, because people began stepping up. When Kenny began forming a group, Jocelyn stopped him. "I'm going this time," she said, glancing at me. "You're in charge."

He didn't argue.

"Remy," I heard her say, "You're with me. We'll take Francis." A boy with red curls waved at him. I nodded in his direction.

"You need to pack everything up," Jocelyn called out. "If we upset a horde, you all need to be ready to go. Don't wait up for us; just go where it's safe. We'll find you."

Everyone nodded and started shuffling to their tents. Only nine people were left, including Jocelyn and me.

"Remy, Francis and I are going to take the city," Jocelyn said, looking at the teenagers. "Johanne, your group can take the park. There's a lake not too far from here, and we could use it. Maybe look for some berries or something. Do a security check." The girl named Johanne nodded.

"Henry, your group needs to take the immediate buildings. Check the closest ones, but stay near camp. If there is any immediate danger, let Kenny know and get out of there. Get the walkies."

Henry ran to the supply group and grabbed three walkie-talkies. He handed one to Jocelyn and one to Johanne. "Okay," Jocelyn said, hooking her walkie to her belt. "Go get your bags. Kenny set them up last night."

Everyone except me walked to the pile and I noticed nine backpacks lined up, no doubt full of supplies. With a nudge from Jocelyn, I grabbed the remaining two.

"Thanks," she said, avoiding his gaze and slinging the bag over her quiver. She had a bow in her hand, two knives strapped to her legs, and one strapped to her upper arm.

"Can I get my weapons back?" I asked, probably sounding too hopeful. They had stripped me from my machete, pistol, and folding knife, though the folding knife was more for everyday tasks than actual fighting.

"They're behind my tent," Jocelyn said, checking her own weapons. "I left them there in case you decided you didn't want to stay."

"You weren't afraid I would kill you all?"

"We have people on watch. And besides, if you killed me you wouldn't last another five minutes before Kenny had your head."

"Is that how you stay alive? Hide behind your boyfriend?"

She stared at me. "Do you want a black eye to match your lip?"

I only snickered as I went to grab my things.

We took off only five minutes later, after Jocelyn had a word with Kenny. I rolled my eyes as he got near her, and nearly laughed when she backed away and joined me. As we walked away, I called, "Maybe next time, pretty-boy."

"He could kill you, you know," Jocelyn said from beside me.

"He wouldn't," I said, smirking. "He's too afraid of making you mad."

She sighed, and I knew I was right.

We parted ways with the other parties. The last person we saw before our own party ventured into the city was Henry, waving at us for what we all knew may have been the last time.

Jocelyn took the lead, and Francis was right beside her. I hung back, whistling as we walked the deserted streets. "Shouldn't we be checking these buildings?" I asked.

"If Henry doesn't find any, we won't either. I'm more worried about security. If this area is clear, then we can always send more parties later," Jocelyn said, and I noticed that she already had an arrow notched.

I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me.

We walked for what must have been an hour, deeper and deeper into the city. In that time, I moved closer to Jocelyn, because even though the entire city sounded quiet, it was really creepy. I remembered almost going crazy sometimes, when I wouldn't hear anything except the sickos' groans.

Suddenly, Francis stopped. "I know this street… my cousins lived there!" He pointed forward and I saw the entrance to a cul-de-sac. Francis took off running.

"Francis!" Jocelyn yelled, and sighed. He kept running, and we walked quickly after him, but soon he was out of sight.

"He's going to get himself killed," Jocelyn muttered.

"Hey, loosen up," I said flatly, embracing the irony. "He's just visiting family."

When we heard a scream, though, we ran faster than Francis had. We went behind the houses, nearing the center of the cul-de-sac. There, in the middle of the street, was Francis. And surrounding him was a horde.

Jocelyn ran forward but I yanked her back. There were too many of them. She started to scream but I held my hand firmly over her mouth, putting my other arm over her abdomen and holding her back. She squirmed and kicked, making me fall back, but I held on. She fell on top of me and I groaned but didn't let go.

"Stop," I whispered roughly in her ears. "There's hundreds of them and not enough of us."

She still struggled, but less. I squeezed my eyes shut as Francis screamed again, and screamed for Jocelyn. She cringed into me and I held her tighter, more for assurance than to restrain her.

When the scream cut short, I opened my eyes. We had to get out of there without any of them noticing. I slowly took my hand off of Jocelyn's mouth and she let out a shaky breath. She was trembling, either in rage or grief.

My other arm was still holding her still, and it wasn't until she stiffened that I let her go. She sat up, not looking at me, and fixated her eyes on the horde.

I put a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, but didn't pull away. "We have to go," I said. "We have to tell the others."

She was about to answer back when her walkie-talkie went crazy with static and someone screaming. Jocelyn's eyes widened as she frantically took it off her belt and lowered the volume. I tensed, but it seemed the horde was too busy with their new snack. We ran away, back into a patch of trees and out onto where Francis began running. Jocelyn turned the volume back up and held it near her ear. I leaned in.

"Too—many—" It was Henry.

Jocelyn pressed the talk button. "Henry? What's going on?"

When she let go, it took a few seconds before he answered. He was whispering.

"Horde. Took Poppy and Reese. I'm hidden, and I don't think they'll find me, but I already warned Kenny—they're headed for the park—"

We suddenly heard Henry screaming and then there was only static.

"We have to get back to camp," Jocelyn said and took off running.

"Wait!" I yelled and ran after her. "Kenny knows now, and he's probably already got them moving. If you go to camp now, then there will be a horde waiting for you. We need to focus on finding the others."

"They could be anywhere! Maybe they got held up, and the horde found them!" Jocelyn yelled.

"And we're nowhere near camp! If the horde found them, they're finished. If the horde didn't find them, they'll be long gone by the time we get there."

Jocelyn stopped in the middle of the street. "What do we do?"

I walked up behind her. "We lay low a couple of days. Then, each day, we send out a message on the walkies about where we're going to be. Hopefully they're coming our way and not the opposite way. We'll make a circle around the park, sending messages so that as long as they don't go too far, they'll eventually hear us.

I didn't look as Jocelyn dropped her head and clenched her fist. "Screw this," she suddenly yelled and kicked the ground, dropping to her knees. She lifted a fist and slammed it on the pavement, ignoring the scrapes worsening on her knuckles.

I dropped next to her and held her wrists. "Stop," I said. "You're not helping them by doing that. You need to focus."

She turned her head away from me but nodded.

"Then come on, chérie," I said. "Those hordes will be coming soon. We need to go."

I helped her up and together, we walked down the streets for hours, avoiding the park. Eventually, Jocelyn stopped and held up her walkie-talkie.

"Kenny," she spoke into it, her voice shaking. "We are stopping at the house on 25th, the one you and I checked together, with the blue shutters. The doors are still closed so it's secure. We'll be here for the night, and most of tomorrow. If you aren't there by sunset, we'll change position." She paused, and then whispered, "Please be there, Kenny."

I followed her into the house. She told me that she backtracked to where they passed through on the way to the park, and that this was one of the neighborhoods they scavenged. She told me that Kenny decided to leave a bit of food here, since it was cleared and they might need to come back to it.

The sun was beginning to set and my muscles were aching, so I was just thankful for a place to relax. The place smelled old, like it hadn't been used in a long time, which it hadn't. But Jocelyn opened some windows and it wasn't too bad. It seemed like this family got out of New York once the disease hit, because I found a newspaper dating back ten months, from when the first reporting of the disease was featured.

They didn't take too long to pack, because there were still pictures on the fridge. They were a happy family, with a boy who looked about twelve, a girl around age five, and an infant. The picture, according to the date, was taken a year ago. I thought about the likelihood of their survival and then swallowed. These kids had parents. Parents who, as of now, were either dead or walking mindlessly around looking for their new target.

I stiffened when I realized that Jocelyn was right behind me. I turned around and saw her sitting at the small dining table, just staring at the walkie-talkie. I shuffled over and sat across from her.

"He'll call," I said to her. "We'll find them."

She frowned. "Yeah."

I picked up the walkie and pressed the talk button. "Hey, we're going to get some sleep now. You know where the house is. Try knocking this time, though," I said, sending a wink to Jocelyn. I released the button and put the walkie back on the table.

"You aren't funny," Jocelyn finally said.

"Whatever you say, mon ami."

She trudged upstairs and I followed her. She took the closest room, which looked like it was the master bedroom. I took the next one, which looked more like a guest room.

I threw my bags and weapons down and flopped on the neatly made bed. The curtains were opened, and some dim light was shining through. I folded my arms behind my head. My stomach rumbled, but I didn't want to use the rations from my backpack yet. There's no telling how long we'll have to last without the hefty supplies from the group.

I let my eyes shut, but about ten minutes later I heard knocking on my door.

"Um, come in," I said, sitting up on my elbow. The door opened and Jocelyn gingerly stepped in.

"The other rooms," she said, "have pictures. Of the family, you know? And I tried to take them down, but they…" she faltered. "It was like they were still there."

I imagined the family living here, going about their day-to-day business in this house. I imagined they didn't use the guest room much.

"Yeah, no problem," I said.

"I'll get my sleeping bag," she said.

"That's ridiculous," I pointed out. "This bed is huge," I flung out my arms, emphasizing my point.

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you always this arrogant?"

"It's a talent of mine."

She sighed and looked longingly at the bed. Finally, she took the very end, as far away from me as she could get.

"You know," I said, smirking at her, "I don't bite."

"Maybe not, but I do," she said, pulling the covers over her shoulders and closing her eyes.

"Whatever you say, chérie."

-o-o-o-

I woke up the next morning feeling pretty weak. My stomach felt completely empty, but on the plus side, there was a pretty girl in my bed.

Of course, I knew this girl had a knife under her pillow and wouldn't hesitate to stab me, but hey, kids these days, right?

But she seemed a lot less threatening when she was asleep. She didn't have that same cold expression on her face, and I could almost imagine a girl before the disease.

But the disease made Jocelyn who she was today, I would guess. And nothing would be able to change that.

I groaned as I sat up and held my stomach. I reached for my bag, rummaging through it for a bag of jerky. When I found one, I gently nudged Jocelyn awake. "Breakfast," I said, holding up the bag. Together we sat there, nibbling on the jerky. Kenny hadn't shown up in the night, but he still had a few hours. Which meant we had hours left in this house.

"Do you think they have board games?" I wondered aloud.

Jocelyn nodded. "I saw some, in the boy's room. I don't like board games."

I looked at her and shrugged. "I haven't played one in… about eight months."

"Ten, for me," she said, and stared at her jerky. "Didn't have anyone to play with."

"Siblings?" I asked.

"No."

"Friends?"

"We traveled a lot."

"We?"

"My dad and I," she said, and flinched. I nodded and chewed on my jerky.

When we finished, we sat in silence for a while. "So," I finally said. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" She snapped, glaring at me.

"To your dad," I said, not entirely affected by her glare.

She frowned. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

I shrugged. "It's not. I just figured you'd want to talk to somebody about it."

"Well, I don't."

"Okay," I said. I whistled to a song that used to play on the radio, something about sunny days.

"Would you stop that?" She said, angry.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because… because things aren't like that anymore! Things aren't _happy_ anymore. The universe made sure of that." She crossed her eyes.

"You're incredibly pessimistic, and depressed," I concluded. "Everything can be good again one day, maybe."

She stared at me like I was crazy. "I'm not de—you're the crazy one! You go around flirting with girls like you're still in high school, go around singing like things are great, letting people die rather doing everything that you can to save them!"

"_I _was saving _you_," I spat out. "And excuse me for not falling into a hole that I can't get out of. I'd rather die happy than live miserably."

She blinked at me hard. "You should have let me go," she said flatly. "I would have left my rations."

I let out an exasperated sound and grabbed her wrist, hard. "Look," I said to her. "You're going to have to get over it. You're alive, and so am I. And there's no use in _surviving_ if you aren't going to _live_."

She stared at my hand and clenched her fist. "It's hard. There are kids dying. I should be helping them."

"You can't save everyone."

"But they deserve it, Remy! They deserve to survive too!"

"Nobody _deserves_ to survive in this hellhole."

"Then what do you suggest I do, then? Pretend like everything's okay?" She tried pulling her wrist away but I held on.

"I expect you to stop being a hard-ass all the time, and to stop acting like nothing can touch you. And, while you're at it, realize you'd be doing nobody good by _dying_," I said to her. "Other than that, you could try having _fun_ every once in a while. Remember why life was worth it in the first place."

I leaned in and kissed her full on the lips. When I pulled away, I had to hold my breath so I wouldn't laugh at her shocked (and maybe horrified) expression. It didn't take her long to recover though, and when she did, she kicked me off the bed.

I hit the floor hard, and suddenly she was standing over me. "Don't do that again," she warned.

"Jesus," I groaned. "It was just a kiss. Besides, I didn't hear you say no."

"I don't want to go around kissing some kind of—some kind of player that pulls the French card on girls to get them to like you!"

"I'm from New Orleans, I speak French," I told her, suppressing a smile. "And _I_ think you _liked _it."

"I didn't!"

"So why _don't_ you let Freak or Kenny kiss you? Did you discover they were really bad kissers?"

"They have nothing to do with this," Jocelyn insisted.

"They have both tried to kiss you, probably more than once. But you keep turning them down," I muse. "I wonder why?"

"Stop it," she growled.

"Pretty-boy seems like he would pick up lots of girls. Maybe you're just playing hard-to-get."

She gaped at me. "That's not it—"

"Then what is it?" I demanded, sitting up on my elbows.

"I don't—I don't want them to—"

"You can't save everyone," I said quietly, and she frowned at me.

Suddenly I remembered the night she dreamed about her dad. She'd tell him to stay away, to get away from her. She'd tell him to not touch her.

"Touch me and you're dead," she'd told me multiple times.

I looked up curiously at her. "You're pretty claustrophobic. Aren't you? You don't like to be crowded, not even by _feelings_. You can't _stand_ them trying to approach you, can you?"

She stared at me and shook her head multiple times, but finally faltering. "Yes," she whispered, backing up.

"I'm sorry I crowded you in that tent," I ventured, slowly getting up. "Sorry that I held you down while Francis…"

She backed up more, away from me.

"I'm not sorry I kissed you," I shrugged. "I'm not going to apologize for kissing pretty girls."

Her expression was murderous. "I'm not just—stop calling me a pretty girl."

"Why?" I asked.

"It's like—it's like you don't even care about my name."

"Most girls would just deny that they are pretty."

"I don't care if I'm pretty," Jocelyn said, exasperated. "I'm not prettier than Valorie, or Mary, or whoever. And I don't _care_."

"On the contrary," I said, stopping once she had backed in the corner, "I find you very attractive. And I thought you felt pressured by feelings."

She frowned at me. "What are you getting at?"

"Let me show you," I said. "I won't do it if you don't want me to."

I saw her close her eyes and rub them. Then, it was as if something inside her gave up. She looked up at me and hesitantly walked towards me, stopping right in front of me.

I wrapped my arms around her waist. "It's okay," I said quietly. "I'll let go when you want me to."

When she didn't say anything, I leaned in toward her so that our noses were nearly touching. Her breathing became heavier, but she didn't say anything.

When I kissed her, it took her a few moments to kiss me back. Her hands went to my chest and grabbed my shirt, like she depended on me to hold her up.

She pulled away ever so slightly. "What are you trying to show me?" She asked.

"What are you learning?" I shrugged slightly, the corner of my mouth twitching.

"I'm—I'm not sure," she said, not meeting my eyes.

"Maybe if we practiced more," I suggested, and this time I got a ghost of a smile out of her. I leaned in and kissed her again, this time pulling her away from the wall. "Maybe, sometimes," I said when I pulled away, "It's okay to forget. And to do what you want."

She stared at me for a moment. "Kenny's going to kill you."

"Why? You liked it."

"I never said—" She stopped when she met my eyes and sighed. "It was okay. Didn't mean much, right?" She said, turning away from me and picking up her bag.

"Well if you ever feel like kissing, you know," I said, sitting down on the bed. "I'll be here."

She looked at me curiously. "You're weird."

"You're crazy," I reminded her.

"We have a few more hours," she said, ignoring my comment. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Make out?" I asked, with a smirk on my face.

"I'm thinking sending out another message." She walked out of the bedroom, leaving me there.

When I finally got up to go to the kitchen, I stopped on the staircase. I could hear her talking:

"—and we'll be leaving soon, but don't worry, we won't be going far, just to where Joane and the others fell, where we wiped out the horde and ran for it. Maybe their supplies will still be there. Besides, there's that hotel we stayed in, but Ethan didn't want to stay there because—well you know."

I walked the rest of the way downstairs. Jocelyn looked up at me. "Hey Kenny, how's it going?" I said, and Jocelyn scowled. I winked at her. She released the talk button.

"I think we should leave a bit early," she said. "I don't want to be caught in the dark and the hotel is about an hour's walk away."

I nodded and we packed up the rations that Kenny had kept here: A couple things of canned food and a single bottle of water. It was a lot if you thought about it. Enough to last a couple of days.

When we left, Jocelyn looked back at the house a final time. "The boy's name was George," she said. "I saw it in his room. His little sister's name was Christina." Her voice lowered. "The baby's name was Aubrey."

She was frowning.

I slung an arm around her shoulders. "Well then thanks Aubrey, Christina, and George. Your house was a great place to crash. If you didn't survive, rest in peace, mon ami."

Jocelyn looked at me, surprised. "Yeah," she finally said, looking at the house. "Rest in peace."

**I had more plans for this chapter but this seemed like a good place to stop.**

**BY THE WAY: I know that the disease usually affects teens 16 and older, and Remy's 16. The thing is we don't really know exactly how the disease originated so I'm going to use the fact that my story takes place in America and say that the affected age is 18+. Let's see what happens when the kids turn 18, shall we?**

**The is my own spin on how the disease should work, anyway. Will the disease affect those TURNING 18? Or will those who are unaffected now remain unaffected?**

**I appreciate reviews **


	3. Jocelyn- Take a Number

**Listened to Survive- Rise Against while writing this chapter.**

Chapter Three: Take a Number

I was right when I said we should probably leave early. By the time we made it to the hotel, it was getting fairly dark.

"No attacks yet," Remy noticed.

"No Kenny yet, either," I said, my eyebrows knitting together.

"Well, I guess we'd better book a room then," Remy joked, and I rolled my eyes.

Sickos simply didn't open doors, unless they were the smarter sort. Even better, this hotel had rotating doors, so the sickos had to actually know how to work them. That was one advantage they had. I took out my knife and entered the hotel, as empty and undisturbed as last time.

"Right, so we can crash in the lobby—"

"Are you kidding?" Remy stared at me. "This is a five-star hotel. Hang on," he said, jumping behind the counter. He rummaged in the drawers and produced a key, holding it up proudly. "For the maids," Remy guessed. "Are you telling me that you guys haven't ransacked the vending machines in the suites yet?"

"Um…," I trailed off. He grinned and ran off. I followed him, suddenly excited.

He stopped at one of the doors, quickly turning the key and walking into the room. "Jocelyn, look!"

I walked in and blinked. There was a bathroom with clean towels and a shower and a separate room with a couch and magazines and a bedroom with one, large, king-sized bed. Best of all, on the wall across from the couch, there was a vending machine full of junk food.

"We could live here!" Remy said, walking through the rooms. "Why didn't you guys stay here?"

"We had crashed in the lobby for the night," I murmured. "The next day, we found out some kids had gone to play in the plaza—one of them was Ethan's sister. Ethan's one of our main strategists. Well, the kids ran into a horde and—none of them made it. Ethan insisted on leaving immediately… We didn't stop to scavenge."

"Jocelyn," Remy said, looking at me. "We could get Kenny here. He'd have to come near here eventually—there are rooms for everyone to have their own, and more. We could set up supply rooms, medic rooms, places for the littler ones to stay—"

And I could see it. Connor, running through the hallways, Mary complaining after him. Kenny and Ethan, in a room and working out where to scavenge next. Valorie, bathing in the luxury of it all.

"This… Remy, this could be it," I said, fumbling with my walkie-talkie. "We just have to—have to get them here."

"They'll come," Remy said reassuringly. I put the walkie-talkie up to my mouth and pressed the button. "Kenny—the hotel. I think… I think we should stay here. Permanently. I mean, I know I talked about staying in Central Park but this… You'll have to see it on your own. If you get this message, please, talk back to me. If you don't… I'll talk to you later."

I released the button and looked to Remy. "I'm tired, he said, checking out the bathroom. I'd bet they have a gift shop somewhere around here with some fresher clothes."

He walked passed me and into the hall. I stood there a couple of minutes, absorbing it all. When he came back, his arms were full of clothes. He walked into the bedroom. Standing in the doorframe, I saw him putting all of the new t-shirts, boxers, and shorts into one drawer. "Here," he said, tossing me a NYC tourist shirt and some NYC pajama shorts. "You can take the first shower."

I didn't talk as I walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind me, locking it. Slowly, I walked towards the shower as if it were the first time I saw one. I peeled off my sweaty clothes and turned on the hot water. When I stepped in, I shivered as the water hit my bare skin. The hotel even had shampoo in those miniature bottles. It wouldn't be hard, I figured, to get more shampoo for everyone from a superstore somewhere. There's usually shampoo left, while the more obviously practical stuff—like toilet paper—was wiped out.

It didn't take long for me to wash my hair. It wasn't much longer than an inch. It was messy, yes, but easier than managing long hair. I had cut it when I left home.

When I got out, I almost fainted when I saw the robes. The real luxury robes, that people actually pack away at the end of their stay. It was soft against my skin, and looking in the mirror, I felt so… new.

I walked back out into the hotel, where Remy was waiting. I nodded towards the bathroom as I walked into the bedroom, and he wasted no time to go in. In the bedroom, I carefully got dressed, putting the shorts away to resort to a pair of the many boxers that Remy brought up. I pulled on the t-shirt, and felt cleaner than I ever have this past month.

Remy did a double take when he saw me. I supposed I looked a lot different with all the grime and sweat and dried blood washed away. I left the bedroom so that he could get dressed as well. Sitting on the couch, I looked over the magazines. There were a few cooking ones, which I imagined Mary would like very much. When Remy walked out, I couldn't help but laugh. He was wearing the exact same outfit as I was.

"Did you just laugh?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Imitation is the best form of flattery," I said, tilting my head at him. He just rolled his eyes. He looked a lot different, too. For some reason, I thought his eyes were brown. Now I could see that one of his eyes was cornfield green, while the other one was stormy grey. I wondered why I didn't notice that before.

We found a closet to stuff our bags and weapons in. I kept a dagger, earning a disapproving look from Remy, and slid it under a pillow.

"You know, I think you were right," I said, looking at Remy. "We could live here. If Kenny doesn't get here soon, I'm going to kick his ass."

Remy just chuckled.

Eventually we went to bed, in the _same_ bed, Remy pointed out. "If I didn't know any better," he said, "You're just looking for excuses to sleep with me."

The truth was I didn't want to be alone. And when somebody else sleeps near me, somebody that doesn't make it hard to breathe, the nightmares go away.

In the middle of the night, we heard static.

Remy was awake before I was, stumbling for the walkie-talkie. I hurried and switched the lamp on, and found the thing at the foot of the bed. I pressed the button.

"Kenny? Are you there?" Release. Static.

Suddenly, a voice: "Jocelyn, is that you?"

"Oh, Kenny," I dropped on my knees, holding the walkie-talkie out in front of me. "Where are you?"

"Some other punk had a walkie and decided to mess with us. We took care of him. Where are you?"

"The hotel," I said, frantically. "Where the kids…"

"I got it. We'll be there buy sunrise. Don't leave there."

I couldn't even talk.

"Jocelyn?"

"Yeah," I managed.

"I love you. Sleep now."

I dropped the walkie-talkie, and it the static went away. He must have turned his off.

"Did pretty-boy just confess his love to you?" Remy snorted from above me.

"I—What does it matter?"

Remy stared at me. "Are you serious?"

I frowned and looked back at the walkie-talkie. "I love him too. He's one of my best friends."

"That's not what he meant."

"I'm really tired," I said, standing up. I think I'll go to sl—"

I didn't get to finish that sentence, because Remy had his arms around my waist and his face inches from mine. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, and kissed me.

He kissed me for a while.

Eventually he pulled away and looked at me.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked.

"Because I wanted to," he said, dropping his arms. Without another word he turned the lamp off and climbed in bed. I looked at him, and then laid down.

"You can't do that around the others," I finally whispered.

"Why?" He demanded.

"Because it would only cause problems."

"Then maybe," he said lightly, but he had a cutting edge to his words, "I should just get into trouble a lot, so you have to take me and 'talk' to me a lot."

I didn't answer and instead, fell asleep.

When I woke up, Remy wasn't there, and the sun was shining brightly.

I was horrified. I jumped out of bed and yelled his name. "Remy?"

When I looked in the living area, there was a ripped out page of a magazine on the coffee table. It had a note on it.

**Your boyfriend is here. We're in the lobby probably, unless one of us is dead. **

I groaned and ran out into the hall, and down to where the lobby is. I heard yelling. When I got there, I almost cried in relief. My group.

But there was a fight, too.

Kenny was just punching Remy when I laid my eyes on them. "Stop!" I screamed, running to them. That didn't prevent Remy from getting hit pretty seriously in the right eye. He was on the ground, now.

When Kenny looked my way, it was like the fight never happened. "_Jocelyn_," he said, and everyone turned my way. Kenny walked up to me and crushed me in a hug. I gasped.

"Get away from her," I heard Remy say from the ground. He was getting up, but slowly.

"_Me_ get away from her? Don't you _ever_ touch her again!" Kenny yelled at him.

"Hey!" I yelled, and Kenny looked at me. "Why were you beating him up?!"

"He was going on about… about you and him," Kenny said, glaring at Remy.

"Well, there is_ nothing_ going on," I said, looking between the two. I locked eyes with Remy and he shook his head angrily.

Suddenly, Freak pushed through the crowd. "Oh, God," he said as he walked up to me. I extended my arms for a hug. Freak was always a bit gentler than Kenny. A bit more fragile.

I took a deep breath and backed away. "Guys, there are rooms here for everyone," I said, looking at all of them. They all looked pretty tired and worn out. "And more. We can have a medic station, a place for everything. Ethan?" I looked at a boy who had brown wavy hair and cracked glasses on. I stepped toward him. He was shaking his head.

"I know this is hard for you," I whispered. I put a hand on his shoulder. "But we _need_ you. Don't let her death be in vain. We can live here."

He was about my age, but at the moment he looked like a very small, very afraid boy. I stepped away from him. "Nobody is to take a room unless we assign it. If you want a roommate, choose now."

"Everyone made it," Kenny muttered from beside me. "Except Henry's party. Where's… where's Francis?"

I shook my head and he ran his hand through his hair.

A lot of the younger kids wanted a friend to be the roommate. I remembered many years ago, when I went to summer camp and the cabins and the counselors.

"Okay," I said. "Okay."

Kenny found a floor plan. There were five floors in all, even though just one floor would serve its purpose. After a total headcount, including Remy, we had thirty-one people.

I already had a room, I pointed out to him. He wrote my name where my room was. Then he allowed people to come up and pick where they wanted their rooms.

"The upper floor will be for more practical things," I said. "Like a medic room, playroom for the kids, strategy room. We can rearrange the furniture and everything to suit our needs."

When I was confident in Kenny's ideas, I turned to the kids. "All of you," I said, looking for them, "are responsible for your room. That means you have to clean, too." They all nodded, but I figured it was only a matter of time before trouble arose.

"I'll check up on them every morning," Mary spoke up. "We'll create a routine. Won't we?" All of the kids nodded eagerly.

I silently thanked her and directed everyone to the gift shop for new clothes. "One more thing," I said, talking to everyone. "There are vending machines in every room. You are not to touch them. We will go around tomorrow and get them to move all the food upstairs. After that," I said, allowing a smile, "Everyone can have a snack of their choice."

The kids seemed incredibly excited by this. It would take a while, but they would make this work. They had to.

When I got back to my room, Remy was still in there. "Hey," I said, looking at him.

"Hey," he said, relaxing on the couch. He didn't look at me.

"You could get your own room now," I said. "There are plenty of others."

"I thought this was my room?"

"Oh, um, yeah. No problem." I walked out and trudged back to Kenny. He eyed me and I told him that Remy wanted to keep the room.

"You want me to kick him out?" He asked.

"No, just give me the one next to it." He did, and frowned unhappily. "You guys seriously shared a bed?"

"It was nothing, Kenny," I sighed and grabbed the key before he could respond. I opened my new room and walked in, feeling really, really, alone.

-o-o-o-

The rest of the day had been pretty chaotic. We had job assigning to do.

"Mary is obviously going to be in charge of the kids," Kenny said. All of the kids 12 and up were having a "meeting" in their new "meeting room", which was just the first room on the second floor.

"Who is watching the kids now?" I wondered.

"Ethan stayed behind to watch over them. He knows his job," Mary assured me. Everyone knew Ethan's job. He was a strategist.

"We need a medic," Kenny said, and looked around the table. Remy was sitting on the opposite side of Kenny, just staring at him.

"I think that Brianna would be best at that job," I said, looking at the girl with pigtail braids. One time I got into a nasty fight with another survivor—one not from our group—and got cut pretty badly. Brianna patched it right up, saying her mom used to be a doctor.

Brianna blushed and nodded.

Nobody assigned me a job. Everyone knew my job, just like they knew Ethan's.

"Valorie can make sure everyone gets clothes, rather than them bombarding the gift shop and taking too much," Freak suggested, and the girl huffed. I had to make her come to this meeting.

"I'm not a maid," she drawled out.

"Think of it as a fashion advisor," Talia said, rolling her eyes. She wasn't very fond of the girl.

"Right, because you'd put them all in plaid and boy's jeans," Valorie smiled sweetly and Payton clenched her fist.

"That's _enough_," I said. Valorie was rather homophobic and was disgusted by Payton and Talia.

"What's he going to do?" Kenny asked, pointing at Remy.

I shrugged. "Guess we will find out what he's good at soon enough.

I winced when I heard a big crash downstairs. Mary got up and ran out of the room.

"Great," Kenny said. He was swearing under his breath when he left.

"Meeting's over, I guess," I said. Somebody probably got stupid and knocked over some racks in the gift shop. Everyone shuffled out. Remy went out after me, but I didn't turn around as I walked downstairs and back into my room. I needed a nap.

Nobody woke me up for dinner or anything. In fact, the only time somebody knocked on my door was in the middle of the night.

I rubbed my eyes as I got up, grabbing my dagger by reflex and stumbled towards the door. When I opened it, Remy was standing there, leaning against the frame. When he saw me, he put an arm around my waist, pulling me to him. For some reason, I let him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him, backing into my room and closing the door.

He pulled away, breathing hard. "You're lucky you're in the room next to mine. Kenny was on watch in the lobby."

"No, _you're_ lucky," I corrected him and kissed him. I didn't know why I did it. I just wanted to.

I ended up leaning against the arm of the couch. I would have fallen over if his arms weren't around me. When he pulled away again, my face was probably flushed. "We've got to stop this," I said, and he kissed me on my jawline.

"Why?" He asked not really paying attention.

"I don't know," I admitted. He was just about to kiss me again when I heard a knock on my door. I jumped violently and Remy let go of me, causing me to fall on the couch. He went over to the door and looked out the peephole, and suddenly cursed under his breath.

"I'll be in the bedroom," he said angrily. At first I was confused, but when I looked through the peephole it was Kenny.

I opened the door, suddenly conscious of my heavy breathing.

"Hey," I said, looking at him.

"Um, hey. I thought I heard voices."

I tried for an apologetic look. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have been… talking again."

He looked passed my shoulder and then back at me. "You know, Jocelyn," he said, his voice a bit softer. "I know you know how I feel about you. And I know Freak looks at you the same way, and I regret waiting so long to tell you." When I didn't say anything, he continued. "I would be so good to you. Just give me a chance."

When he suddenly kissed me, I didn't kiss him back.

I jerked away. "Sorry," I muttered. He looked ashamed.

"No, I'm sorry," he said, flustered. "Goodnight."

He shut the door when he left. I stood there, staring at the space he was just moments before.

"He kissed you," Remy said from behind me. "Why?"

"I imagine he wanted to," I answered, not looking back.

"But you didn't want him to."

"That doesn't matter," I tried.

"Are you kidding me?" Remy turned me around by the shoulders. "When I kiss you, is it because I want to, or because we both want to?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Which is it?" Remy demanded. "C'mon, look at me."

When I did, he looked angry. "I… I wanted to."

His face relaxed. "Don't kiss somebody you don't want to kiss," he said flatly and left my room.

I made a frustrated sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Then, not bothering to go to my bed, I slept on the couch.

-o-o-o-

I woke up late the next day, and when I went into the bathroom I noticed my lips were swollen. Shit.

Inching out of my room, I wondered where everyone was. When I went upstairs, I saw a line of people waiting to get their snack and realized all of the vending machines (except mine) must have been emptied already. I ducked my head and walked down the hall until somebody ran into me. Deliberately.

When I looked up, Remy was staring at my face. He laughed under his breath.

"You did it on purpose," I accused him.

"Guess I lost track of what I was doing," he shrugged.

I pushed passed him. The next room looked relatively normal, but Brianna informed me it would be where she would patch people up. I nodded and moved on, where Mary was moving out tables and lamps. She told me that she was going to make an injury-free room. I wished her good luck, and silently noted how the medic room was right next to it. Kenny had the next room, but I hurried along before he could notice me.

I sighed and took the stairs at the other end of the hall. Until the next scavenging or until trouble came about, I would be perfectly useless. I wasn't good with kids, or people in general. What were you supposed to do in a world where if you stepped outside you risked getting eaten?

I occupied myself with petty magazines in my room until someone knocked on my door. I looked through the peephole but saw no one. Confused, I opened the door to little Connor.

"It's dinner time!" He announced, obviously pleased with his job.

"Um. Okay. Where?"

"At the restaurant!"

"This hotel has a restaurant?"

"Yep!"

So without much arguing, I followed everyone else. I didn't know why I didn't have the sense to check everything once Remy and I got here. I supposed we were occupied.

From the lobby, there was a hall that led to where guests could have breakfast or dinner served to them. The walls were made of glass, which would have seemed lovely before the disease, but now just seemed ugly. I sat at the nearest table and looked around. A few of the kids were actually going around and asking the others what they wanted, like waiters.

"What would you like, Joccy?" Connor asked me, a hesitant smile on his face.

He was one of the few kids that talked to me, so I ignored the nickname. "What do you have?"

"Um," he said, looking at the other tables. "We have chips and water. And some spaghetti-O's if Freak gets the stove working."

"Some spaghetti-O's are fine," I said to him, holding back a laugh. Freak, in the kitchen?

When Connor left, a familiar face plopped in the seat in front of me.

"Surprising, isn't it?" he said, a bag of jerky in his hand. "Seems like things are doing okay."

I nodded. "Yeah, for now. Won't be long before we run into trouble, though. Like when all of this food runs out."

Remy leaned forward on his elbows. "Or we grow old enough to catch the disease."

"We don't know if that will happen."

"And what if it does?"

"Then it wouldn't matter. We'll all die out." I said.

"That's comforting," Remy responded, staring at me. I remembered last night and dropped his gaze.

"I think we should work on being friends," I said slowly. "We go from hating each other to making out with each other."

"Aw, am I really that bad of a kisser?" Remy said, smirking.

"No," I said too quickly. "I'm just tired of trying to keep up."

He shrugged. "Fine."

I wondered how long that would last. Connor eventually brought me some burned spaghetti-O's that I ate without complaint. It was better than the jerky I've been eating for the last couple of weeks. Remy continued on his jerky, and we ate silently. Once Kenny walked by, and he faltered, looking from my face to Remy's. I pretended not to notice.

Remy was grinning. I kicked him under the table.

That night, surely enough, there was another knock on my door. And, surely enough, when I opened it, it was Remy.

He had a sober look on his face as he stood there. He didn't have to say anything as I let him in.

I didn't even know what I felt when he kissed me. It didn't feel romantic, I don't think. It felt sad.

He felt sad.

**I promise this isn't just a love story. There's gonna be a lot of death and stuff. We just have to get there. **


	4. Kenny- Savior

Kenny- Savior

Maybe I was delusional.

Watching Remy go into Jocelyn's room was hard. And she had hid him from me.

It wasn't really fair, once I thought about it. I was always there for her. I'd known her before the disease. I loved her long before Remy laid his eyes on her.

And yet, she let that _scum_ near her.

The first time I told Jocelyn I loved her, I had gotten a kiss. For a while, I thought that we would be together. That it would be better that way. But in the back of my mind I always knew that something was wrong and that the girl I had fallen for wasn't entirely capable of returning the feelings.

If I had been quick enough with the matter, issues wouldn't have arisen when Freak came. Jocelyn was undeniably beautiful, even with her short hair and ugly scars. And I suppose when Jocelyn was the one that brought Freak out of his hole, he couldn't help but try to return the favor.

I thought that maybe the reason was that she didn't want to hurt either of us. That's how I slept at night, anyway. Maybe she did love me; she just couldn't show it because she didn't want to hurt Freak. It was a comforting thought.

Until I saw that boy walk into her room.

Remy had gotten on my nerves since the beginning. He was arrogant, stupid, and dangerous. He'd get us all killed if we let down our guard. He reminded me a bit of high school. I had always done all sorts of sports, made good grades, I _survived_. People like Remy were the ones who didn't give a shit and would rather mess it up for everyone else.

Jocelyn, on the other hand, was actually in my school. She had arrived five months before the disease, but it only took one day for me to notice her. She had longer hair then, and she wasn't as hardened. I never got the chance to talk to her much but I knew, I knew that the same Jocelyn I had met then could be the same Jocelyn I knew now.

I just had to figure out how to show her.

So that night, after Remy had walked in, I decided to pay her a visit. Like I expected, she didn't let me in and I couldn't see much. She didn't mention Remy once.

"Hey," she had said, and I couldn't help but notice her disgruntled appearance.

"Um, hey," I said, glancing over her shoulder. "I thought I heard voices."

She blamed it on her nightmares and I felt angry.

When I had kissed her, I didn't give her an option. I felt that if I could just show her then she would understand. But she backed away, and the expression on her face was almost… scared.

She apologized, and I thought that maybe another time. After Remy was gone.

"No, I'm sorry," I said to her, backing away. "Goodnight."

-o-o-o-

It wasn't hard to find the restaurant. I'd have to do something about the glass walls, though.

Truth was, I had a map to the hotel and there was a pool and hot tub, too. But Mary and I decided that while we settled in, we shouldn't tell the younger kids. There was also a garden on the roof but it was fairly small and wouldn't work to well when crops became involved.

I wasn't sure how we got things to run so smoothly. Maybe the kids, for now, were used to change and wanted to appreciate this good turn of events as long as they could. I was glad, nonetheless, that on our second day, things were still going smoothly.

The only present problem was Ethan. He seemed incredibly sullen, and I noticed he spent a lot of time starting out the window where, not weeks ago, his younger sister was ripped apart by sickos. I was surprised to find out that he volunteered to watch over the kids during the meeting, because after Joane's death Ethan wasn't exactly happy-go-lucky around the youngsters anymore.

That being said, Ethan had been incredibly withdrawn since we got to the hotel. There were some protests from him after Jocelyn told me about it, but I convinced him to give it a chance. Now the fight was drained from him, and irrevocable depression set in.

The only person that seemed to make any effect on him was Jocelyn. Jocelyn seemed to have a talent for these things, mostly because she didn't sugar coat when she didn't have to. In fact, she can win a fight before it has even started, or see that it's pointless and come to a compromise. After a while in this new world, I realized she was better suited to be a leader. And she did too.

After a week at the hotel, I noticed we were running low on food. We'd have to send out the scavenging parties pretty far, considering this area is swept. We had about another week's worth of food, so I figured the sooner the better.

I met up with Jocelyn about this, and she agreed. Ethan and I planned for a while, and soon enough, we got the whole group down in the lobby.

"Alright," I said, looking at all of them. At one point, I led them. "We're going for another scavenging. Only three of us will go due to the complications of last time…" I trailed off.

"I'll go," Jocelyn said from next to me.

"Me too," Remy stepped forward from the crowd.

"Hold up," I said. "If he's going, I'm going."

"Why?" Jocelyn asked, looking at me in confusion.

"In case he turns out to be dangerous."

I heard Remy snort. "Kenny," Jocelyn said, "If he wanted to kill me, he could have done it when we got separated from you."

"I don't care," I insisted. "I'm going."

Jocelyn didn't argue, but put Mary and Freak in charge. If we weren't back in four whole days, she told them, then we were probably dead.

She was always so optimistic.

Then, without giving me another look, she went into her room.

"You're not seriously jealous of that boy, are you?" I turned to see Mary, her long black hair tied into a tired bun. There were bags under her eyes, no doubt from spending most of her time taking care of the restless kids.

"Just careful. You can never be too careful."

"You're digging yourself a hole, Kenny. Better get out when you can."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped, looking at her. She may have been intimidated by Jocelyn, I noticed, but not by me.

"I mean that everyone knows how you feel about Jocelyn. We've heard your fights. You're not exactly inconspicuous about it." She looked at me strangely. "But the thing is, until Jocelyn says anything about liking you, or _him_ for that matter, it's best you don't get too attached."

"You don't think it will happen," I said flatly. It meant to be a question.

"I'm only saying you can never be too careful," Mary said, putting a hand on his shoulder, effectively relaying my words back to me.

"Look, I'll do what I have to," I said, "And I have to survive. I'm focusing on that. I suggest you do the same. When's the last time you've gotten sleep?"

"You're quick to change the subject," she observed. "And I have been sleeping fine, except Connor had one of his nightmares again last night. Had to stay up with the kid. He's sleeping now, says it's better during the day."

Most of the kids here around here had nightmares, or sleepwalked, or whatever. I used to do that when I was younger, but the circumstances were different now.

"Are they getting worse?" I asked. Connor's situation was pretty bad, compared to the others. His parents had this weird storage closet, where they stored things like water and food and sleeping bags for the family. Connor had told them later it was their camping closet, but Connor went in there when he was scared and such because it locked from the inside. One day, his parents got unusually violent and they looked weird, like their skin had swelled in certain places. His little sister bit it first. Connor had just enough time to lock himself in the camping closet before his diseased parents got to him.

Jocelyn had found him there, in the dark.

Then he had to walk out of the house, staring at his parents' dead bodies. Mary wasn't on the search so Jocelyn had to take care of the kid. Maybe that's why the boy felt so attached to her.

"They've been pretty much the same," Mary told me. "It used to happen any time he slept, though. Now it only happens at night."

Nobody ever really spoke about Jocelyn's nightmares, though. Some of the kids in the group seemed pretty relieved to have somebody to talk to, but Jocelyn ignored the fact that there was ever a problem. She didn't come to me at night crying. She shut the world out.

Apparently, the world didn't include Remy.

**Alright guys so this was a pretty quick chapter just to get some Kenny POV in there. **

**Hope you enjoyed. I'm working on three chapters at a time, so another one will be up soon.**

**My sister helped point out some errors, but if you guys see any, I'd be glad to fix them :) **


	5. Remy- Sum of a Thousand Lies

Remy- Sum of a Thousand Lies

When pretty-boy decided that it was time for a good ole scavenging, nobody argued. But when he assigned groups, I found it awfully coincidental that he put him, Jocelyn and me in the same group. Maybe it was because Jocelyn insisted that she go and it was obvious that I was going too. Maybe he wanted to keep an eye on us. Poor kid.

"It's about time these kids run free," I noted, after realizing the two people of authority around here would be gone for a day. Jocelyn had to make a visit to my room, since her bow was still stashed in my closet and her practical clothes were lying on the bathroom floor.

Jocelyn looked at me strangely. "Mary and Freak are sharing responsibilities. They are to be in charge. You can't just let people run free."

I snorted. "Yeah, disaster would strike."

Jocelyn frowned. "It would, though."

"I think that rules make everyone a little bit rebellious," I raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't you think?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled on her boots. "I follow the rules. The rules that help us survive, anyway."

"Do you? Like when you almost ran into a horde of sickos to save your friend?"

"It was to improve his chances of survival."

"Isn't kissing me against the rules?"

"You kiss me," she pointed out, standing and adjusting her backpack. "And no, anyway. Well, maybe. Only if anybody found out."

"That sucks," I reminded her. "I waste hours of sleep just to come here."

"I don't ask you to."

"Oh, but you want me to, chérie," I winked at her and she just shook her head and sighed. I was still lacing up my boots when she walked out of the room. The parties were due to leave in about an hour, so I finished getting ready so I could grab something to eat.

When it was time to go, I found Jocelyn waiting in the lobby. Kenny was sitting next to her, rummaging through his bag, probably double-checking everything. We had about four days to scavenge, which meant we'd have to probably actually communicate with each other. Joy.

When I plopped next to Jocelyn, Kenny scowled at me. Just to rub salt in the wound, I slung an arm over her shoulder. Expectedly, Jocelyn glared at me and shook my arm off, but I didn't miss Kenny's angry look. I grinned.

"Great to see we're all smiles and sunshine," I told them, reaching across Jocelyn to clap Kenny on the back.

He reached for my wrist but frankly, I was faster than the dude.

I felt Jocelyn elbow me in the side.

Soon it was actually time to leave, after a lot of boring preamble about the responsibilities that the group had with rules and all. I waited outside of the hotel until Jocelyn and Kenny joined me. Kenny had a map in his hands.

"The hotel had some maps of the city," I heard him telling Jocelyn. "We have a route planned out, and Ethan has another copy so this time they would be able to track us if we didn't make it back in time."

"Smart," Jocelyn commented, and soon we were off.

The first day of scavenging was pretty successful. Kenny mostly avoided me, resorting to making small talk with Jocelyn. We raided several buildings and houses, picking up a little here and a little there. It didn't amount to a whole lot, but at least it was something.

So basically, a lot of running, a lot of rotten things, and most of all, eerie silence.

Since we had a late start, it wasn't long before we had to make plans to stop.

We had sleeping bags, so all it took was a clearing of a fairly small house. Kenny conveniently was sleeping between Jocelyn and me. "I knew you liked me," I told him just before I turned over to go to sleep.

"I'll find you out, man," I heard him say. "We've all got secrets."

-o-o-o-

The next day was a little more interesting. We happened upon a house with a decked pantry, and Kenny marked the house on the map. We'd send people out here to lug it back. He walked a way to make the call on his walkie-talkie—saying that they made sure to keep in range of the hotel—as Jocelyn and I secured the house.

Jocelyn told me about how they used to take food right away, but since there were barely any kids around anymore, the need wasn't as urgent.

"Plus," she said, "If there were kids around here, they probably would have joined us already. That's how Mary got with us. She used to be living in her mom's apartment."

"She was staying there?" I asked. I imagined most kids wouldn't want to stay at their old homes, knowing their whole family was either dead or insane.

Jocelyn shrugged. "I mentioned, her mom was a doctor. She was barely home. She wasn't there when she snapped, anyway."

"And how does Mary know that's what happened?"

Jocelyn began climbing up some stairs, checking out the rest of the place. "Mary brought some documents. Her mom had made an online diary about the disease. She was apparently studying it. Even when she caught it."

I frowned. The last news I had heard of the disease was on the run, and then, it was only describing "minor, random outbursts".

"What did they say?"

"She was conscious for a while, even when she began wanting to… to start a new diet. The disease was starving her, but she fought it. At least, for a couple weeks. Mary thinks she was in the middle of an entry when she went completely off the bat. We've studied that over and over again."

I never really wondered about the actual disease itself. Lately it's been about running.

"What do you have?"

"Well, we know they bust when they're out in the sun too long. You've seen the random ones lying on the street? We call them Busters. That's why a lot of the time they're holed up in buildings. So we figure that the sun makes the disease work faster, truly killing them. The new diet is just… a side effect."

"What does that have to do with Mary's mom?"

"Well, what if she had been holed up the time? What if, by staying in the dark, she could have stayed sane?"

"Interesting theory," I said. "But would they be able to live without their new diet?"

"I don't know," Jocelyn admitted. "But there has to be a reason they want us for dinner so much."

By then, we had cleared the last room in the upstairs. She had this concentrated look on her face, like she was learning Algebra for the first time. "What happens if we figure it out, then? We can't just turn the lights off in the world."

"It's something," she said, looking at me. Damn, this girl was confusing. At one moment she talked about just wanting to die and the next she wanted to save the world.

"Is there a reason you feel responsible for everyone?" I asked, moving closer to her.

"I told you on your first day."

I thought for a moment. "You don't trust anyone?"

"Yep."

"And that's why you're leader?"

"Yeah."

"That's pretty conceited," I said. "We aren't all helpless."

"The last time person I trusted nearly killed me."

"Your dad?" I guessed, and the look on her face confirmed it. "He was sick. Not in his right mind."

"Is anyone?"

"You ask some tough questions, chérie," I told her. She shrugged and leaned up towards me. I thought she was going to kiss me, but instead she put her lips near my ear.

"Sitting around and making out gets you nowhere in hell."

I smirked as she pulled away, gave me a last look, and walked back out of the room. I followed her down to where Kenny was wrapping up his talk with Ethan.

"Cleared?" he asked, glancing at Jocelyn.

"Cleared," she confirmed.

"They'll be here around midday tomorrow," Kenny said. "We should try to get some more locations before then so they don't have to make several trips."

"Got it," she said, and we took off.

We eventually came across a smaller find, but clued Ethan in nonetheless. After a couple more hours of walking we had to stop, since it was pretty obvious we were all exhausted and the sun was setting.

"Maybe this time," I muttered to Jocelyn as we cleared a sleeping area. "He'll lay off."

She glared at me. "Kenny's just…" she sighed. "Being Kenny."

I raised an eyebrow. "Exactly."

I dreamed that I was floating in an ocean. The sky was a dark grey and the water around me seemed to go on for miles and miles, with no land in sight. And I just… floated there. Immediately the silence was unbearable, and I found I couldn't even speak. My mouth moved but no sound came out. Or was I deaf?

And suddenly, a voice spoke in my mind. It didn't feel like I was hearing it, it just felt… there.

"Where are your parents, Remy?" This was the voice of a random police officer. I tried to picture a face, but before I could, another voice spoke.

"You're worthless," I felt Jocelyn say. "You'll die out and everyone… everyone will forget you."

"Stop crying," a vague, muddled voice said. "Stop _crying_!"

I tried to move my arms, tried to do anything to get away from the voices, but I was paralyzed. And even then, I knew it was impossible to get away from them. The

"You're nothing to me," Jocelyn whispered. "You were never anything to anybody."

The voices were me.

Just as I felt the intense urge to claw my own eyes out, I bolted upright. Heaving, I looked to where Jocelyn was sleeping, and remembered what she had said in my dream.

"It was a nightmare," I said to myself.

_That doesn't mean it isn't true_, said a voice in my mind, from somewhere far away, probably in the middle of an ocean.

**Sorry for another short one. I may or may not have had already written another chapter meant to take place after this one, resulting in less context in this one. This one is kind of a filler, with a bit of information that we'll need later. **

**Thanks for the reviews! And thanks, Strider144, for Remy who is AMAZING.**

**And thanks to my sister who is patient enough to read through my chapters and tell me parts I could make better. **


	6. Jocelyn- Fury and the Fire

Jocelyn- Fury and the Fire

It was an awkward start for the third day of scavenging. Remy had woken me up, and even though we were only awake for a couple minutes before Kenny got up, he glared suspiciously at Remy. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Apparently Kenny wasn't over it, because after about an hour of walking, he brought it up again.

"I don't like him."

"Why?" I asked, glancing at Remy, who was now walking a bit behind us, whistling.

"He looks at you wrong."

"He_ looks_ at me wrong?" I laughed incredulously. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. I trust you," he said, looking at me. "But I don't trust him."

"Look," I sighed. "I talked to him, and—"

"Why are you even remotely interested in him?"

"Kenny, this isn't really any of your business—"

"If it makes you feel better," Remy suddenly interrupted, obviously having heard our conversation, "Jocelyn thinks kissing in hell gets her nowhere. That's a plausible excuse, right?"

Kenny looked from me to him.

"It's interesting though," Remy continued, "That only seems to apply to some of us."

"How about you shut the hell up?" Kenny said, turning to face the other boy.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Unless you want me to beat the shit out of you, I would answer that question yourself."

"Hey!" I yelled at them. "We don't have time for this."

"Pretty-boy's just jealous," Remy informed me, his eyes trained on Kenny.

"As if," Kenny spat out, holding up his sword. Remy's machete was still strapped to his back.

"Admit it," Remy said, a wicked grin on his face. "I don't know if you noticed, but she actually likes me."

"Stop it," I tried again, but they both ignored me. "Are you seriously fighting over this?"

"Tell me," Kenny yelled, glancing at me. "Is it true?"

"It doesn't matter!"

"She's just saying that," Remy smirked. "She's afraid of what you'll say. How does it feel for her to be_ afraid_ of you?"

In a normal situation I would have punched Remy in the face. But I could see the hurt on Kenny's face, and then the rage. He raised his sword, aiming for Remy's heart, and swung.

I did something incredibly stupid. I leaped in front of Remy and, in shock, he hooked his arms under my own. It was a good thing Kenny had excellent reflexes because he changed his position enough to get me in the leg instead. It was also pretty convenient that Remy was holding me, because my leg gave out.

"Are you crazy?" Remy screamed at me, dragging me away from him. I stared at my leg, and the gushing blood. When I looked to Kenny, he looked horrified. The thing was, my blood was pumping so fast, that I didn't really feel much.

Remy put me down in the middle of the road and tore his bag open, searching for his first-aid kit Kenny must have snapped out of it, because he dropped his sword and rushed forward towards me.

"Stay away from her," Remy yelled, getting out some gauze. He looked very, very panicked. He took an extra shirt out of his bag and pressed it firmly against my leg, and I cried out and jerked. He yelled for me to stay still as he wrapped the gauze over it, and I wondered how much pain I was going to feel in a few moments.

Kenny stood a few feet behind him. "Jocelyn—I'm so sorry—"

"Go away," I groaned, and his face paled. He backed away and folded his arms behind his head, cursing loudly. He grabbed his sword and threw it.

"You're stupid, you know that?" Remy grabbed my shoulders.

"Saving one kid at a time," I muttered angrily.

"Dammit Jocelyn, go to hell!"

"I'm already there, if you haven't noticed."

"You don't need to go around and do stupid shit like that!"

I recoiled away from him. Why was he mad at me? I should have been mad at him. "I just saved you!"

"You could have gotten killed," he growled, and I glared at him.

I didn't get the chance to respond when I spotted something. My blood turned cold.

"There's a few over there," I whispered.

He looked to where I was gazing and pulled out his machete. There were some sickos stumbling out onto the street, eyeing us.

I looked around for Kenny, and saw his sword across the street. I cursed under my breath. The sickos made their way toward us, when suddenly their small crowd just got a whole lot bigger.

"It's a horde," I said quietly. Not all of them had noticed us, just a few sluggish ones. I felt queasy. "We're probably going to die."

"To hell we are," Remy said, wrapping his arms around me and heaving me up. I breathed in sharply and withheld a yelp. No fast ones yet. It was a long street. We had approximately thirty seconds before the rest would notice us.

Then I heard roaring, and Kenny yelling from the opposite side of the street.

The horde was coming right for us.

"Run, Kenny!" I screamed as loud as I could, and Remy was suddenly dragging me into a building, and I yelped every time I put weight on my injured leg. The last thing I saw before I entered the small building was Kenny staring at the horde in terror, and I knew what he was thinking. He thought we were dead. Remy slammed the door shut, but it wouldn't hold for long. My mind was racing.

"We'll building jump," I yelled, vaguely remembering a time I did something similar a few months ago while Kenny and I were being tracked by some sickos.

Remy was holding the door shut as I hobbled toward the staircase, the adrenaline pumping through my blood again. This is what I could do, I told myself. I could survive.

When some of the stronger sickos started breaking through the door, one of them got Kenny by the neck. I yelled out and stabbed the thing in its ugly hand. Lower, this time, a hand grabbed his leg, and this one must have had a pretty good grip because Remy cried out in pain. I shoved him away from the door.

"Move, Remy, move!" I screamed at him, running up the stairs and ignoring the searing pain in my leg, while the horde followed. They were faster than what we've dealt with before.

He yelled at me to go, with some rather foul language involved as he swung his machete behind me. I yanked at his shirt and we made it to the third floor.

"Close the door," I yelled at him as I smashed the window open. There was a smaller store next to this building with an entrance on the roof, and the only chance we had was to jump. I heard banging and groaning on the other side of the door, and I flinched. "C'mon, c'mon," I muttered, kicking out the glass. I leaned out of the window and suddenly my walkie-talkie filled with static, causing me to drop it. It broke apart on the pavement below.

"Shit," I yelled and then Remy was there, behind me.

"It's not going to hold," he said frantically. "We have to jump now."

It wasn't a far jump, but my hands still trembled. "What about your leg?"

"Are you seriously worried about _my_ damn leg? Jump!"

Without thinking much, I backed up a few steps and ran forward, using the last step to push me off as far as I could. I didn't have to worry about missing, because I launched over the edge. I think the adrenaline helped me, because I knew if I had been hit with the reality of my wounded leg I wouldn't have made it. But I did scream in pain when I landed. My arm was covered in blood, but I didn't think anything was broken. I looked up to the window where Remy was standing. The door was giving way.

"Jump!" I screamed at him, trying to get up. He did, but from here I could see he struggled to put power into it. He barely made it to the ledge, where he grabbed to the side of the building and yelled out.

I tried to run but tripped, noticing my legs were incredibly weak. He yelled in pain again and I pulled myself over to him and grabbed onto his arms. My arms felt like they were on fire.

"Kick against the wall," I said through my teeth, pulling up with all the strength that I had. When he did, I yanked him to me and he fell forward, crushing me.

"God," he groaned and sat up, looking me over. I tried to sit up on my elbow but found that I couldn't. Remy stumbled up and grabbed me, putting his arm around my waist and mine around his shoulders. We limped over to the door on the roof, and I silently thanked whoever this store's owner used to be. I heard groaning and I turned around to find some sickos try to jump on the roof. There were a few that missed and fell to the ground, but one stronger one made it. He began to hobble toward us and I shrieked, but Remy pushed open the heavy metal door, shoved me in and closed it behind us. I yelped as I hit the floor, paralyzed in pain. I vaguely remembered a trip to the playground with my dad, where I fell and skinned my knees and hands. I fell when I tried to run to him and he had to pick me up, I was crying so hard. I looked at my arm, and I couldn't see the pigment of my skin anymore. All I saw was red. My leg must have had a gash in it, I knew, but I couldn't bring myself to look at it.

Not moments after Remy secured the door did he dropped next to me and put his hands on either side of my face. "My skin," I said, "It's gone."

"It's not gone, chérie," he said. "You're going to be okay."

I tried to tell him that I was on fire, but he wouldn't listen.

"Stop it," he said, his voice weak. "You'll be better in no time. We just have to take care of your… your leg, and then your arm will heal up fine. Are you listening to me?"

I had closed my eyes, trying everything I could to just pass out.

I heard him shuffle, and then curse. "My backpack is out there," he said through his teeth. He ripped off his jacket, set it to then side, and then took off his shirt. He held out his hand and I grabbed it. Removing the already soiled gauze and shirt from my leg, he replaced it with his own, and rewrapped the bloodied gauze tightly over it. I bit my tongue as he used the soiled t-shirt to wipe at the blood on my arm. My arm looked a lot better, though, now that I could see some skin. I fell weird, so I had some burning scrapes below my ear that I didn't notice until he dabbed it. I cringed away from him, and he sighed.

"The adrenaline helped you for a while," he said, concentrating on my face. "We'll have to find you some pain medicine."

"Not with that horde out there," I groaned, and remembered Kenny running down the street. "They think we're dead," I whispered. "They're not coming for us."

"We'll be okay," Remy said. "We're in a storage room right now. We'll stay here until we are ready to be able to clear the building, and then we'll get out of this place. Back to the hotel." He frowned. "Remind me to never let you go scavenging again."

My eyes were squeezed shut. "You're the reckless one, remember?"

"I don't act stupid and jump in front of a fight," he responded.

"Kenny wouldn't hurt me," I whispered. "He moved his sword in time. That hit would have killed you."

"That isn't going to stop me from killing him. You would be up and running if he wasn't such an imbecile."

I tried lifting my head up, and when I couldn't, Remy helped me and sat me against the wall. He searched the room. It looked like a typical janitor's closet. He took a mop, broke off the end and tossed the pole to the ground for now. It would make a good spear. He found some toiletries, probably to refill a bathroom downstairs. He threw me a roll of paper towels and I used them to dab at some of the remaining blood, wincing all the while. Then, with the remaining roll, I scooted and used it as a pillow. It was more comfortable than using the floor. Remy did the same thing with another roll. He slumped next to me, and I guessed that his adrenaline was out, too. I had just closed my eyes when Remy wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. It was cold, I reminded myself. He probably wanted to get warm. I didn't mind. Shifting so that there was no way he could accidentally harm my already-wounded left side of my body, I curled into him. It took a while for me to get to sleep, what with the pain, but when I finally did, it was bliss.

I dreamed a little differently that night. It wasn't the usual nightmare, of the man strapped on the table. This time it was about what happened after.

I'm running with the bag that I had packed weeks ago. My heart didn't feel empty, just on pause. I pushed out all the pain until I reached the alley a couple blocks from our house, where I would be living until I realized that it wasn't safe there. It wasn't safe anywhere.

With a pair of scissors I had taken from my kitchen and started hacking away at my hair. It reminded me too much of when my dad would try to braid it when I was younger. I didn't cry as I did it, I just thought of it as getting rid of waste. I put the memory of my father far into the back of my mind where it wouldn't get to me. At least, it wouldn't get to me when I was awake.

I jerked awake, and found Remy staring at me, with a slight frown on my face.

"You killed him, didn't you?" He asked.

My heart skipped a beat when I nodded. I swallowed and blinked hard.

"He was sick, chérie," he said, and for once there wasn't a mocking tone to his voice. "He would have killed you."

"How'd you know?"

"You kept apologizing to him. And then you were grabbing at your hair."

"What am I going to do?" It came out a little more than a whisper.

"There's nothing to do," Remy said. "He's dead. It's better this way. You stopped him from doing some pretty terrible things."

"It wasn't his fault," I said, avoiding his gaze. "He didn't deserve this."

"You think anybody did?" Remy laughed bitterly. "They got screwed, too. Now it's our turn."

"Why is this happening? Why aren't we dead?"

He leaned into me. "Maybe we aren't supposed to be. Not yet."

"What purpose," I spat out. "Could there possibly be for suffering this much?"

"I don't know."

"What happens if one of us gets infected? What then?"

"If I _ever _get infected, I want you to kill me," Remy looked to the ceiling. "I'd hate to be stuck here trying to..." He stopped.

I didn't realize how depressed I was until then. I had always struggled, and even this boy—this boy I barely knew could tell me how sad I was. And then breathing was getting harder to do, and I felt like the girl who realized her dad was sick for the first time. When I'd cry in my bedroom because my dad was locked in the basement.

"Why are you crying?" Remy asked. He looked surprised. Probably because I've never really cried like this in front of him.

"I'll just miss you all," I said.

He was quiet for a long time. I thought he had fallen asleep when eventually, he said "I'll miss you too, mon ami."

**Thanks to my sister, yo. Alani catches grammar and spelling mistakes before I do.**

**Big thanks to Strider 144 **


	7. Remy- Fires We Can't Contain

Remy- Fires We Can't Contain

I had no idea what I was doing.

When I woke up, for a fleeting moment I thought that we were back in the hotel, because my arm was around her waist and Kenny was nowhere in sight. And I thought I would lean over and kiss her on her cheek or something, and then maybe push her off the bed and run. But there was no bed, and as soon as I sat up I noticed her leg.

I didn't look infected, thankfully. Didn't hit a major artery. More of a slice than anything. But that didn't stop me from repeatedly cursing at the both of us.

She was so _stupid_.

Groaning as I got up, I de-barricaded the roof door and looked outside. There were no sickos to be seen. They must have fallen off the edge. And there, in the middle of the roof, was Jocelyn's bag. I jogged out and grabbed it, and silently thanked whoever packed them so well. When I got back to the small supply room, I dropped the bag, secured the door, and kneeled next to Jocelyn.

"You shouldn't have done it," I said as I shook her awake. She rubbed her eyes and stared at me.

"I didn't have a choice," she said.

"Sure you did," I responded. "Why'd you do it?"

"I told you. I was saving you. Repaid the favor, right? You could have let me die with Francis."

I sighed. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible. Better than yesterday, more of a throbbing now. I may be able to walk."

"Don't push yourself, chérie. We want to get out of here in one piece, and that's not going to happen if you can't walk right."

"Look, the important thing is getting back to the hotel."

"Right now, the important thing is preserving your pretty little neck."

"Is my neck really that pretty? I never noticed."

I snorted. "Your neck isn't the only pretty thing about you."

"Kenny once told me I had nice hands."

"Kenny's weird."

"Yeah." She smiled and wiped at her face.

"We're going to have to clean your wound," I said, momentarily distracting myself. "We have your bag now—and we don't want it to get infected."

"We," Jocelyn mused, shifting to her elbows. "I'm sure you'd suffer dire consequences if my leg got infected."

I ignored her and opened up her bag, grabbing a bottle of water and the small first-aid kit that Mary most likely put together. "Take off your pants," I said, and Jocelyn stared at me.

"What?"

"Take off your pants. I can't do it neatly with your pants on"

"You're kidding," she sighed, but gathered from my expression that I wasn't. She flinched and slowly unbuttoned her pants. When she tried to pull them down, though, her breath caught.

"Let me help," I said, moving towards her.

"I got it," she cringed away from me, and slowly peeled the pants off until she reached the wound. Then her shoulders slumped.

"I can cut them off," I said gently. "At least where your cut is, so you can wear them again." She nodded and I took my switch blade out and, careful to avoid actually touching her with it, cut a couple inches into her pants so that they were no longer putting pressure on the wound. She let out a sigh and I helped pull the pants down to her feet.

"I don't know exactly what I'm doing," I warned her.

"That's comforting."

"You know, it's funny, I imagined the first time you taking your pants off in front of me to be a little different than this."

"Don't push it, Remy."

"I speak only the truth," I said, looking grimly at the cut. "You are the one who insisted on sleeping with me, after all." I rummaged through the kit, looking for anything that might help. I came across a small package of alcohol wipes, and figured that I could clean the skin around the wound, to prevent any further infection, and try to see if she could handle me cleaning the actual cut.

Honestly, I had no idea what to do.

"I only did so because I wanted to sleep well," she said, letting her head rest against the wall as I rubbed gently around her cut, removing grime and dirt.

"Sleeping near me helps you sleep?"

"Sleeping near people," she corrected.

"Why?"

"I guess because I know I'm not alone."

I remembered my dream with the ocean, and the strange voices in my head. I understood. For the months that I traveled alone, nearly going crazy…

I shuddered. Isolation in a world like this is what got to you. And if there's anything that can get to you here, it will take advantage and kill you.

When I touched the actual cut, I had to grab her wrist so she wouldn't jerk way from me. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists, her knuckles going white. "It's okay," I murmured, concentrating.

She nodded and stared at the ceiling. When I was done, I took new gauze from her pack and wrapped it tightly around her leg. It looked a lot better now. She closed her eyes and I sat next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "See? You'll be better in no time."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Yeah, yeah."

"It's Kenny's fault, really."

She glared at me. "You instigated, remember?"

"Nah, all that I said was true."

"I don't like you," she said shortly.

"Oh, c'mon," I said, "It didn't look like that when you let me in your room at night. Multiple times."

"It's just kissing. You said that."

"You sure like to run away from anything that suggests you actually have feelings"

"Of course I have feelings," she said, her voice slightly different. "I am perfectly capable of being mad, or happy, or sad. I just…"

"You won't allow yourself to get close to anybody," I said, interrupting her. "And those are emotions, which you aren't too great at either."

"There's no point in getting close to anybody anymore. That puts both them and you more at risk."

"So you feel nothing for Freak? Or Kenny? You could care less if they dropped dead?"

She flinched. "I would… I would…"

"You would what?"

"I don't know!"

"You have to!"

"I guess the only real option I have is to forget. At least for a while."

"There," I said. "You run from things. You hide them. Like your dad. You won't let anyone inside, you only push them out."

By this time she had squirmed away from my arm, and now she was facing opposite of me. "What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't sit around and mope all day—"

"You can't pretend they never existed, either," I insisted. "It happened, and it's not like we can change it, so you might as well acknowledge—"

"You said we," Jocelyn said accusingly. "You aren't even talking about them."

"What? Yes I am! I'm just using it as an example."

"I'm not interested in _acknowledging_ the pain of the fact that _I_ killed my dad. I'm not interested in _acknowledging_ the pain of the fact that if anyone dies in my group, it's _my_ responsibility. And I'm _not_ going to put myself through the _pain_ _of acknowledging_ that I have any feelings for you."

"Because it's so difficult to like me," I said coolly, keeping a straight face.

"Even if I did like you, I wouldn't do anything about it."

"That's because you're an idiot."

"That's because," she growled. "If I did that would only be more to deal with when one of us _dies_."

"So because you're an idiot?"

"What's so wrong with not wanting to get hurt?" She yelled, throwing her hands up. "We kissed, it was fine, what else do you want?"

"I didn't make you out to be such a cold, heartless bitch."

Her expression went blank and hardened. "Screw you."

"That'd be nice, but it wouldn't actually mean anything to you, so no thanks."

She looked enraged. She pushed off of the floor but immediately fell with a gasp. Refusing to look at me, she put her palm against her cut and tried again, and I could hear her groaning under her breath as she limped to the other side of the room and dropped to the floor. Her fists were shaking.

"Very impressive," I said loudly. "You hobbled all the way to the other side of the room."

"You're a bastard," Jocelyn said, and I recognized the tone. It was what she used when we first met.

"Ouch," I responded, lazily clutching my heart. "Didn't your daddy ever teach you not to call names?" I don't know why I was being such a dick. She made me mad. This whole time, she just… didn't care.

"I hate you," she said lowly.

"Guess you're wishing you would have let me bite it back there with Kenny," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Is that an offer? I'll cut you for free."

"Is that a threat?" I said, standing up. "You could try, if you'd like."

She wasn't looking at me. Just staring at the wall. "Don't," she said. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"I'm trembling," I promised, walking over to her and grabbing her arm. I had meant to pull her up, but she immediately had her back against the wall and her knife pointed in my direction. With her other hand, she was kind of cradling her leg.

"Stay away from me or I'll slit your throat," she said.

"I'm sure you will," I spat. "Seeing how you never cared much about me anyway. No worries, it's the same for you. Good for a make out session or two, but not much more, right?"

"Shut up," she said and her voice broke. I smirked.

"How does it feel?" I asked, kneeling in front of her. "To be forgotten about?"

And her breathing got quicker.

"You think you're so important, that you can just stand up and everyone will follow you. That whatever you do, you do it for everyone."

She shook her head. "I'm just trying to keep people—"

"Safe?" I asked. "You'd do anything, right? You'd turn away from humanity to do it. You'd forget about the person in the body."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," she whispered. "This isn't about me."

"Isn't it?"

Her hand, which held the knife, trembled. "Get away from me," she tried again.

"No."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Get away!" She yelled. I grabbed her wrist and luckily I had a good grip, because she started jerking her arm towards herself, trying to get away from me. I pried the knife from her hand and it skidded across the floor. She punched me in the chest, and after she got a few hits in I had both of her wrists pressed against the wall.

She shook her head, laughing strangely. "Isn't this a good way to go?"

"I'm not going to kill you."

"Why not? I'm dead weight. You could go back to the hotel right now and say that you escaped the horde alone. You could probably even make Kenny feel incredibly guilty about it. Just. Do. It." She locked eyes with me.

"I'm not like you."

"Oh, you have feelings for me? Is that it? Sorry I'm such a screwed up piece of shit, then. You must be disappointed." She had a bitter expression on her face. But she didn't look away. "Just do it, Remy."

The bad thing was she really did want me to. I knew that if I tried to kill her, she wouldn't stop me. I could see it in her eyes.

"Please, Remy," she said softer, her eyes dropping to the floor. For a brief moment, I thought about doing it.

"Don't do that," I said, my voice strained. "You will _not_ leave me alone."

"I don't want to play this stupid game anymore."

"What happened to finding a cure? To protecting your group?"

"Mary. Kenny." She said, as if that explained everything.

"Thought you didn't trust anyone?"

"Hell, I don't trust myself. I don't trust myself." Her voice was thick, and I could tell she was choked up.

"It's okay to cry."

She shook her head. "For eight months," she said, trying to control her voice, "I hadn't cried in front of anyone. Except you." The last part she spat out, like I was a pest. "You make me… you make me a coward."

"No," I countered. "It's normal. It's normal to cry."

"Kill me," she said pleadingly. She struggled to get away from me but I held her in place. Suddenly she hit her thigh against my leg as hard as she could, hitting her cut and crying out. She tried to do it again until I pinned her leg down with my knee.

"Please," I said, scared. "Please stop."

Her tears began flowing. "Why are you doing this? Why can't you leave?" Her shoulders shook sob after sob, and I crushed her to me, my arms around her shoulders. I let out a breath as she cried into my shoulder. Eventually, after what felt like ages, her voice became raw and she was only trembling. And then, after a few minutes, she was still.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "So sorry."

She was silent for a long while. "It hurts. To hide it."

"Then don't."

"That makes us weak."

"It makes us human. You aren't a god."

After a while I figured she fell asleep. I laid down with her, not bothering to get the sleeping bag from Jocelyn's backpack. She had her head rested on my arm.

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again Jocelyn wasn't there. I got up and rubbed my eyes, but stopped when I heard a gurgling.

Jocelyn was laying a few feet away from me, a knife in her hand and a bright red line on her neck. I rushed over to her but I couldn't speak. I tried to scream but nothing came out. She stared up at me, coughing. "I'm sorry," she choked out, and her blue eyes became glassy. I shook her shoulders, still trying to scream, watching helplessly as blood continued to drain from her lifeless body—

When I woke up, I gasped like I had been holding my breath. Jocelyn was still in my arms, with no cut throat, but there were multiple streaks down her otherwise grimy face. I pressed my forehead to hers, gaining control of my breathing. She groaned as she slowly woke up, and looked slightly alarmed at me. "What's—" Her voice was raw, and she had to clear her throat. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and kissed her, grabbing the back of her neck. After a few moments she kissed me back, and tried to scoot closer to me, but whimpered and jerked away. She was putting pressure on her bad leg.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, and rubbed her wrists.

I just shook my head.

**Okay this is another pretty short one and I'm sorry. **


	8. Mary- A Sinking Ship

Mary- A Sinking Ship

When Kenny came running into the hotel sobbing, it wasn't hard to figure out what had happened. I gasped, and tears began to form in my eyes.

The thing was, Jocelyn was our leader. And yeah, Kenny was great but there was something about _her_ words that kept us going. "What?" Freak demanded from beside me, and I inwardly sighed.

"What?" Freak asked again, and when Kenny kept sobbing, I think he got the message.

"No," Freak said, staring at Kenny. "Kenny, what the hell did you do?"

"Freak," I said quietly, "I don't think you should do that."

I looked sympathetically at Kenny. I should have been breaking down, but when it comes down to it you realize: it's only a matter of time.

It's different for those you love, like Freak loved Jocelyn. Like Kenny loved Jocelyn.

And while I admired Jocelyn, I knew she wouldn't have gone down without a fight. And that's all she would have wanted.

By now some of the other kids were wandering into the lobby, staring at the blonde boy crying. They never saw Kenny cry. I felt the urge to go and hug him, to bring him back to his room. I always had a soft spot for Kenny, like he had Jocelyn. He just didn't notice me.

"She's dead," Kenny croaked out, and many began sobbing as well. Some began to wail, and others excused themselves to their room. Connor, the one with the nightmares, stood in shock.

"You're lying!" he yelled, his tiny fists trembling. I kneeled next to him.

"Connor," I whispered, and I could see the horror in his face. "Connor, it'll be okay."

"We're all going to die," said another boy, in the crowd. I stood straight, tugging on my long hair. Okay, I couldn't cry. I couldn't cry.

"No we're not," I said, putting on my best Jocelyn voice. "We have this hotel. We will protect it. She would have wanted it that way."

"No!" Connor screamed and ran off, presumably to his room. I huffed and looked around, not allowing myself to cry. I couldn't see Freak. Where did he go? There were too many people talking, too many people wailing—

"Stop," I said to myself. Then, louder. "Stop!"

They didn't.

This was just like Mom. Just like her.

Too many people crying.

I ran to my room. I couldn't stand to see them anymore.

I didn't have a roommate. Figured I could study a lot more without one. On my little desk, which had previously served as a bedside table, stacks of paper were scattered about. I carefully sifted through them, finding a clean sheet and digging for a pencil in my backpack.

_Day 255—_

_Jocelyn died. _

I paused. These entries weren't supposed to be for personal use.

_We'll be okay. We have to be. If we don't figure this out, who will?_

_Okay, so retrial:_

_We__ I theorize that the sun makes the disease spread quicker. Busters are never found on the subway. Their bodies are always broiling. Perhaps we could stop the disease from progressing on the more intellectual sort, but so far there is no sign of an adult that wouldn't kill on sight. _

_As for the age thing, none of us are old enough yet. Jocelyn was three years away and Kenny is too. That Remy boy looked around that age but he didn't come back with Kenny. When the time comes we'll have a shot of seeing how the disease develops and maybe we'll be able to prevent it from happening. We have to keep trying. _

_Still no theories on why they crave other humans. I suppose they don't feed on each other because of the diseased meat. They only like uninfected beings, which leave us. Jocelyn once had a theory that if we were sick, they would leave us alone. Theory has yet to be tested. _

_I'll have to develop the theory now, Jocelyn's dead. _

_She's dead. Just like you. _

I took a deep breath. Squeezed my eyes shut.

_You said in your notes that you were scared for me. That sometimes, you caught yourself thinking about things that you shouldn't. Were you drifting out of consciousness? Why didn't you explain yourself better? Do more tests?_

_People at your work probably would have thought you were crazy. You were one of the first ones to go, after all. _

_I miss you sometimes, but I'm glad you're dead. No offence. I can't believe it though, you dedicated your body to science and they didn't come up with shit, even though you had the disease. Guess they left you in the morgue too long. _

_We've avoided trying to experiment on a Buster. We don't even have equipment. What would we do? If we brought in a live one, we could test behavioral patterns, signs of intelligence… but what if things went wrong?_

_Okay, bye. _

My eyes were so tired. My door was locked and I don't think anyone noticed me coming in here. Too busy grieving. I laid on my bed. Maybe I was just heartless.

How could I be, though, if my heart ached so much? I curled into my pillow and pressed my face against its coolness. I just couldn't find the tears. Sorry, Jocelyn.

I closed my eyes, and once again felt my mother's hand on my cheek. Gentle. I had gotten used to it by now. I saw it all vividly: She'd leave early and come home late, and in the school year that was a problem, because I rarely saw her except the little notes she left me on the fridge or on the weekend. In the summers, though, my whole sleeping schedule would become screwed and I'd love every minute of it. When she'd come home I'd have a movie ready with some sweets, and we'd sit and watch it together. Most of my friends thought I was a hermit. I just wanted to see my mom.

She looked a lot like me, except prettier. Her long, black hair reached her waist, but for work she always wore it in this high bun. When she let it out it would be a single braid, like mine. Her green eyes were prettier than my brown, which I got from my nonexistent dad. She had a smooth face, I had freckles. She had perfect eyesight, I had glasses.

Whenever I would tell her I was jealous, however, she'd tell me that she adored my freckles. Which made me feel better.

She loved me so much. She loved me more than science, she would say. That was saying something, and I found it hard to believe, but she insisted upon the fact every day.

So no, I didn't get nightmares like the others. My past didn't haunt me in my dreams. It reminded me with a gentle embrace. I was luckier than most. The hardest part, I found, was waking up. I thought about how Jocelyn felt, so strong during the day, just to be broken down at night. The difference between us was she was strong when it mattered, and I wasn't.

It didn't matter much to me.


	9. Jocelyn- Swing Life Away

Jocelyn- Swing Life Away

"We'll never be normal," I told Remy as he repacked my bag. "None of us."

"I know," he looked at me. "Doesn't mean we give up now."

I stared at my leg and felt my heart beating against my chest. "Yeah."

"Hey," he said, walking to me. "It all went bad. We all know that. But we lived for a reason."

I hugged him then, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He relieved the pressure on my leg, and I sighed. "You don't think they left?" I asked, my voice muffled.

"Nah," he said. "They have hot showers and beds. They'd have to be pretty dumb."

"You think Kenny made it back?"

He paused. "Yeah, I bet he did."

I nodded and we stood there, until finally he pulled away and smiled. "Let's get back then, shall we?"

It had been two days since the first night, and since then Remy has helped me walk on my leg. It was hard, and it hurt, but we had to leave soon and I knew that. So I gritted my teeth and dealt with it. Remy slung the bag over his back as we opened the entrance to the stairs that would descend to the rest of the building. Yesterday Remy cleared the building, which I protested. He wouldn't let me go with him in case he had to run. Luckily for him, it was completely empty.

It took a while for me to get down the stairs.

The streets were empty, surprisingly. Remy told me it'd be another three days until we'd be back to the hotel, if Ethan's calculations were correct. And if we didn't run into trouble before then.

"We're dead if we run into anything," I noted, and he nodded, not bothering to refuse.

"If we do, your best shot is to get away while I fight," he said, swinging his machete lazily.

I laughed. "No way. You'd die."

"We would both die if you stayed," he pointed out. "I'd have to worry about both of our asses."

"I wouldn't make it very far."

"Far enough."

I kept walking, fixing my eyes on the streets ahead of me. My leg would start acting up soon, so I had to get as far as I could until then. "So how'd you make it this far?" I asked him after a while. I could hear him walking a few feet behind me.

"I've had to live on my own for a while," he answered.

"Even before…?"

"Orphan."

Oh. I never really got the chance to miss my mom, since I didn't know her. I knew my dad loved her very much, though, and always compared me to her. I saw a few pictures, and I could tell that we did look a lot alike. I had her eyes, her complexion. My dad once said that my mother's eyes were his favorite part about her.

In a way I felt sorry for Remy and resented him all the same. He didn't have anyone to lose.

"Early on? Do you remember them?" I asked. I felt like I was prying, but I was curious. I tried not to think about the fact that at one point Remy had a mom and a dad, and that they had a home. I tried to picture them, tried to picture a woman with dark hair like her son's, a man with strange eyes.

"No," he said shortly, and I said nothing, Then, he sighed audibly. "Yes. I remember… I remember my mom." He spoke bitterly. "Never knew my dad."

"My mom, too."

"No," he said again. "My mom was a prostitute. She had sex with men for money and ended up having me."

My eyebrows knit together. "Oh."

"She died when I was five. Cops said she OD'd."

"Oh," I whispered, not really knowing what else to say.

"I don't miss her."

I looked back at him, and he was staring at the ground. His hands were shoved in his pockets. I fell into step with him, and though he didn't say anything, he noticeably slowed down to match my pace with my limp. "So you lived on your own for what, ten years? How'd a five year old survive on his own?"

"Got lucky. This band of thieves recruited me. I had spent my days stealing what I could and begging, and I guess they thought they could take me in. Told them I wasn't going to a foster home, and they agreed. Said they could help me. And they did. Police caught up to us eventually though, and we got scattered. Didn't see them again. By that time, though, I could hold my own. I traveled a lot."

"And when the disease struck?"

"That was the best and worst thing that happened to me. For months it was bliss. I knew where to raid, what to eat, how to survive. I was living better than I ever had in my life. Then the food ran out."

"You found us, then?"

"No, this was earlier. I joined another group with these four guys in it. They… they stole too, but from other people. Other kids."

I bit my tongue. Stealing from kids these days, from food to medicine, meant a death sentence.

"I hated it," he said, avoiding my gaze. "But I had to survive. They had never killed anyone… but I knew we might as well have. Then, one day, we robbed these two siblings, and the leader shot the brother for resisting. The sister was screaming and crying and the others were beating on her… So I shot them. All of them. The girl was in shock. I took all the supplies the group had and split them with her."

He swallowed. "Before I could leave, she asked me to help her bury him. I did and then I left. And after a few weeks… I found you."

We walked in silence then.

We took sporadic breaks every now and then, so that I could drink some water and give my leg a rest. It hurt, but not as bad as these last few days. Besides, I didn't survive ten damn months just to whine about a stupid leg.

Since we had stopped talking, I could hear what Remy heard for months. Complete silence. Except for the shuffling of our own feet, I heard nothing. It just wasn't New York. Remy must have caught on, because eventually he began to whistle.

I smiled and he nudged me. I shook my head.

"This is going to sound terrible," I said, looking down. "But I can't whistle."

"What?" he said, laughing. "You're kidding."

"No, really. My dad tried teaching me once but it was useless."

He laughed again and I closed my eyes. It felt nice, talking about a good memory. Something from my old life. I felt a little like me again.

"Sing, then," he said.

I could sing, though. Not as well as my dad. He used to sing to me all the time. My mom too, apparently. Once I watched a video of someone's wedding, maybe my aunt's, and my mom sang. Her voice was lovely.

"What should I sing?" I asked, looking quizzically at him. Yeah, I was good before. But I hadn't sung in ten months. My voice was considerably scratchy, probably due to the amount of dehydration and screaming that I do now.

He shrugged. "Something happy."

I cleared my throat, and sang:

"_Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?_

_Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?_

_Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?"_

I paused, and felt strange in my heart. It was the song my mom had sung at the wedding.

_I'll show you mine if you show me yours first_

_Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse_

_Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words_

_We live on front porches and swing life away,_

_We get by just fine here on minimum wage_

_If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,_

_I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand_

_I've been here so long, I think that it's time to move_

_The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon_

_Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow_

_I've got some friends, some that I hardly know_

_But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world_

_We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go_

_We live on front porches and swing life away,_

_We get by just fine here on minimum wage_

_If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,_

_I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand...until you hold my hand_

_I'll show you mine if you show me yours first_

_Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse_

_Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words_

_We live on front porches and swing life away,_

_We get by just fine here on minimum wage_

_If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,_

_I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand_

_Swing life away _

_Swing life away_

_Swing life away _

_Swing life away"_

I finished, and my eyes flickered to his. I had always wondered why she had chosen that song, for a wedding no less. But then, long after that day, I figured out that my aunt had cancer. She passed when I was eleven, and I guessed that this song was for her.

For anyone, I guessed.

"You're a good singer," Remy said.

"So were my parents," I said, and my heart was beating quickly. I could see her now, see her in that video. There wasn't a moment when she wasn't smiling. Dad said that she was the happiest person—she could bring anybody up.

"How'd your mom go?"

"Car crash," I said. "It was pretty quick according to the officers. My dad said she was on her way home from visiting her sister. They guessed she was moving to turn up the radio or something—lost control of the wheel. Dad convinced himself that she died listening to her favorite song."

"Pretty easy," Remy nodded. "Luckier than most."

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, she was."

"Why that song?" I told him the story about the wedding. I never had actually sung it before, but I had all the lyrics memorized like the back of my hand. Singing it made me feel like her—like I was there with her, or that she was here with me.

He began whistling the tune and I leaned into him. I hummed softly and closed my eyes and just walked, letting my head fill with music. Blocking out the sight of the ruined city, I imagined the true big city: cars, colors, and life. People hustling about. Kids skateboarding down the sidewalks, screaming out their dreams like everyone cared. Tattoos, piercings, lights, babies, couples, taxis, ice cream.

And for those few blissful moments, I could hear it all.

I could feel it all.


	10. Freak- Burden

Freak- Burden

Slipping out of the hotel wasn't hard.

All the kids were wailing and crying and whining and screaming—Once the words came out of Kenny's mouth, I was a shell. Maybe I always had been.

Jocelyn was dead. She was gone.

When the group found me, I was wasting away. Quite like a vegetable, as Mary told me later. I was sitting on a couch in a building, fully conscious but at the same time detached from the world. Gone.

I didn't want anything to do with the world, anyway.

I had a family. A group. My brother was in it too, and together with about ten other people we survived the hardships of the first several months. We were pretty good too, and things weren't so grim. Plenty of people considered the group their brothers and sisters.

"Tommy," my brother said one night, "This could be our new family. We could make a home, even."

"Yeah," I said. "We could."

"Do you miss mom and dad?"

"Of course, don't you?"

"Yeah," he responded. "But in a way, it's better that they're dead. I wouldn't want mom to go through this."

Mom had a lot of stress put on her. Easily agitated, as my dad had put it. I was happy, too, that she didn't have to live like this. And she wouldn't have wanted to be alone, so I'm glad Dad went with her. Wherever they were.

I used to believe in God. Our whole family was a bit religious.

Anyways, my brother was stronger. He was a few years younger than me but you couldn't tell. Emotionally, he was an anchor.

We were nothing particularly special in our group, not like Jocelyn was in hers. We just did what we had to do. It was better in those days, where we would wrestle around and argue and remind each other of life before this.

I guess I was sleeping when it happened. I don't know. I don't know what they were thinking, going outside at night. I don't know why everyone went except me, but they did.

That was the bad part. I didn't know. I didn't know where my brother was until I found his rotting body and then I could only tell by the dog tags he was wearing that used to belong to my dad. If I hadn't reached down to smear the blood off of it, I wouldn't have even noticed.

And then I was in denial. I'd run around, searching for my brother who _couldn't couldn't couldn't_ be dead. Once I stumbled across a smaller group, and I ran up to one of the boys and pulled on their shoulder, and suddenly I had four guns in my face.

"What do you want?" One of the demanded.

"Thought you were my brother," I mumbled.

"You want your brother?" A bigger one taunted, probably assuming that nobody nowhere had surviving family. "Your brother's dead, man. Everyone's dead."

"No," I yelled back. The kid kicked me in the chest and I fell, gasping for breath.

"What a freak," one sneered. "Is that your name? Freak?"

They beat me sufficiently and picked me clean.

I passed out pretty soon. When I came around it was still light so it could have been for a few minutes or a few days. It couldn't have been too long, I decided, or I would have been dead.

I cared enough to get to an empty building. I sat, then, and continued to sit while I felt like my stomach was caving in from hunger and my lips were cracked from thirst. But I didn't have the will anymore.

So yeah, when they found me, they weren't all keen on keeping me.

Kenny was opting to leave me there when Jocelyn knelt next to me.

"Hello?" she asked. "Anyone in there?"

I didn't answer.

"How long have you been here?" She waited and I didn't respond. Didn't even look at her. "We want to help you."

But there was no helping to be done, I thought. Why should there be?

"Look," she said softer. "Bad things have happened to all of us. You know that, yeah? And we have to help each other. So let me help you."

I let myself look at her once before staring at the ground again. All I caught was her striking eyes.

She got up, spoke with Kenny, and came back to me.

"We're staying the night," she said to me. "Hope you don't mind. We have some water and a bit of food. You need it."

So people piled in the room and I remember being pretty shocked about the number. I could hear the shuffling and talking and feel the stares. Some asked my name but walked away awkwardly when I wouldn't talk back.

"What a freak," one girl giggled. Turned out to be Valorie.

Jocelyn brought over some food and water and sat next to me. She ripped open the bag of jerky and put it in my lap. "You're going to eat," she commanded, and I glanced at her. "Or you'll die."

I stared at the jerky and my stomach growled loudly. I winced.

"If I'm going to help you," she said, "You're going to have to help me first. So eat."

But I was so weak and I was afraid that if I moved I would pass out. So I just shook my head.

Jocelyn stayed up with me all night. She'd talk while others were asleep. I noticed, though, that she never said anything about herself.

"Sometimes, people want to just step out. Others are desperate to live. Kind of crazy, yeah?"

Eventually, I began to nod.

"We need to stick together, though. We need everyone we can find. And I'm not going to leave you here."

Kenny made her though, the next morning. When other people woke up I stopped responding, wouldn't say anything. After an hour of coaxing Kenny told her it was time to go. And they did.

For five minutes, I was utterly alone. And then, the girl who had something to say to him came back, out of breath. She stood in the doorway.

"What's your name? I never caught your name."

"Freak," I said, my voice cracked and dry. I wasn't Tommy anymore. Tommy had a brother, had a life.

She paused. "Freak, come with us."

She sat next to me, and after a few moments, gathered my hands in hers. "Come with me. Okay?"

I didn't answer, but I didn't resist when she pulled me up, either. When we walked outside, I could see the other kids walking towards us, some with an obviously annoyed expression on their face.

That was how it all started.

For months, Jocelyn was the only person I would talk to. She got harder and colder as time passed, but always had a soft spot for me. When I'd have a breakdown, I'd go to her. I'd sit with her and have normal conversations because God knew that's what we needed. What we all needed.

I had always liked her. It was stupid to like someone these days but I couldn't help it. In a world like this, she was the hero.

So I stumbled through the streets, wondering if maybe I could find her. If I could find dog tags on her—but that wasn't right. Jocelyn didn't wear dog tags.

I shook my head and kept walking, leaving the hotel behind me.


	11. Connor- Darkness

Connor- Darkness

I was a tiny bit afraid of the dark. Mommy would have to lay with me until I fell asleep sometimes. Then Jenna came and Daddy said it was time to be a big boy.

Being a big boy meant crying it out in your bed instead of going to see your parents. They were mostly busy with their new baby, and they said it was really important to take care of her which I was okay with. I liked my new sister, it's just sad that she didn't last very long.

Sometimes when I sat in the dark, I'd imagine it was just one of those nights. Jenna must have been crying and Mommy and Daddy had to take care of her. One day, they said, she'd be as big as me! I'd have someone to play with.

Jenna never really got big. She didn't have a lot of hair when she went, either, but it was blonde, like mine. Her eyes were green like mine too. I wondered if we would look like twins when she caught up with me. A lot of people stopped us in the stores to coo over her, and then compare us. I was always really excited because Jenna was such a pretty baby.

I'm also pretty glad to look like my parents. At least I had something of them in me.

When Jenna did leave, I was pretty sad. I didn't know what was going on really, but my parents just got meaner and meaner, saying that she was never coming back. They'd yell at me and so I ran to the camping closet. I knew they weren't being themselves. They were probably just sad over Jenna.

They'd constantly come to the closet door, but it was heavy and by then they were pretty stupid. They'd plead for me to come out, that they had dinner ready, but I already had lots of food. I was tempted sometimes to leave that closet, but something in me wouldn't let me. Maybe my real mommy and daddy were talking to me from Heaven.

I don't know how long I stayed there. I'd sleep a lot and eat a lot and sing whatever songs I knew. I really wished I had the book I was learning to read, _Poppy and her Penguins, _because I really was worried about those penguins. How would they get home?

I was very lucky that I never ran out of food. It wasn't long before Joccy found me. Her voice was normal, not like Mommy's and Daddy's. I didn't let her in or anything, she just told me to get back and the door broke down. She looked at me, and then the food, and then back at me.

"How long have you been here, kid?"

I was in the corner. "Who are you? I don't know. Did you find my parents?"

She looked behind her and sighed. "C'mon, buddy. I think you and I should have a talk."

She told me that people were getting sick and that once those people got sick they started doing bad things. Notice how my mommy and daddy looked and sounded funny? That's because they were sick. They weren't really my mommy and daddy anymore.

"Then where are they?" I wondered.

"Probably in heaven, right? Do you believe in God?"

"Mommy and Daddy and Jenna are with God right now?"

"Jenna?" Jocelyn asked.

"My baby sister!"

Jocelyn squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, Jenna's with God."

"Why couldn't I go with them?"

"Maybe God thought you had something else to do on Earth."

"Well, all I've been doing is nothing," I huffed, and I blinked hard. "They aren't coming back?"

"No."

I started to cry then, really loudly. Some other kids came in behind her and I'd scream until they left. Jocelyn hugged me a lot.

"What do I do now?" I wailed.

"Well, come with us, if you want."

"Where to?"

"I don't know yet."

"But what if I get lost?" I asked.

"You won't get lost," Jocelyn said, looking me in the eyes. Hers reminded me of the sky. "I will make sure you don't."

"Yeah, but what if you leave too?"

Jocelyn sighed and held my hand. "I won't leave you, buddy."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I eyed her suspiciously. "What's your name?"

"Jocelyn."

"That's too long. I think I'll call you Joccy."

"I'd rather you n—"

"My name is Connor."

She was quiet then, and I didn't mind. She picked me up like Mommy would and I sat on her hip.

"Look, Connor," she said, "You're going to have to close your eyes for me."

"Why?"

"You're mommy and daddy are out there. But they aren't really them, remember? It will kind of look like them, is all."

"I want to see," I insisted. I wanted to see my mommy's eyes one last time.

A girl behind Jocelyn, one with pretty hair and brown eyes, spoke up. "I don't think that's a good ide—"

"Let him," Jocelyn interrupted. "He's been in there the entire time. We can't hide it from him forever."

I regretted looking. I regretted even going outside, after being in the dark for so long. I wanted to be blind so bad so I wouldn't remember the world the way I saw it.

There were other kids in the group, so I wasn't so lonely all the time. Joccy didn't talk to me much so I was left with them, anyway. They were okay, I just always liked Jocelyn better. She was mean sometimes but everyone was these days.

Mary tried to be a mommy to me. I didn't like that very much. Jocelyn was just a friend.

For a while I had thought all my friends were gone.

I got so mad when I found out Jocelyn had gone, you know? She promised me. She promised me! And she lied. I tried not to cry because she taught me that crying wouldn't help anything, but I figured that just this time she would be okay with it. Why could she be with Jenna and my parents but not me? Why did they get to go to Heaven and I was stuck here?

Jocelyn said that God had something for me to do on Earth. But I didn't want to do anything for God, especially since he took away everything I loved.

Everyone I loved left _me_.

Mommy used to say that if I prayed enough, then God would listen. So I sat down near my bed, clasped my hands together, and shut my eyes.

"Dear God," I whispered carefully. The others were asleep, or at least most of them. I could hear sniffing from some kids. "I know you have a lot of people up there, and I can understand why. People get lonely sometimes. But I was wondering if you could send some back? We're getting lonely down here, too."

Someone shushed me and I continued in my head.

_I'm really lonely down here, God. And I know Jenna and Mommy and Daddy are probably happy up there together so you can keep them up there. It's pretty bad down here anyways. But if Jocelyn doesn't mind, could you send her back? Tell her Connor sent. _

I paused.

_Tell her I miss her too in case she can't come back. Tell her we all miss her. _

_Amen. _

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. This is just a quick Connor chapter, so I hope you enjoy. By the way, the song from last chapter was Swing Life Away by Rise Against. I would suggest listening to it while reading. **


	12. Will- Ready To Fall

**New character, along with a really long chapter. Hope you enjoy, or probably not.**

**Also, Will belongs to FreakLives. He's great. **

Will- Ready To Fall

"Will!" I heard my sister whine and I sprung up. I immediately chastised myself for nearly falling asleep, as Ellie and I were supposed to only be stopping for a rest.

"Ellie? What is it? Are you hurt?"

"Which page should I color next?" She asked as she holds up her coloring book, showing me that she had completed another picture. I realized the coloring book is almost through; I would have to pick one up at an abandoned store or something.

Nevertheless, I sighed and told her to do whatever she wanted. I sat up and groaned as my stomach growled like a lion. We were low on food, and I was hungrier than usual due to the fact that I had been eating less so Ellie could eat more.

From a distance, a person wouldn't be able to tell that we were siblings. I inherited my father's Italian traits, with his dark hair and olive skin. Ellie, on the other hand, has our mother's Irish scarlet hair and fair skin. Up close, however, we had the same grey-blue eyes that pierced like a knife.

"Why don't we have a quick snack?" I asked, slowly opening my bag, which holds our supplies. We both had our schoolbags from before the disaster happened, but Ellie's blue one was filled with crayons, various coloring books, and some of my comics.

"Yes!" Ellie squealed, and hopped to stand by my side.

We sit there for a bit, savoring some dried jerky. I observed the area we stopped at, because it was too dark to see when we had first arrived. But dawn was coming and the sun was shining a bit brighter—as bright as it got nowadays.

An abandoned plaza. I've always liked open places, where there's room to fight any adults that happened to stop by.

"Are we going to walk today?" Ellie asked, munching on her jerky. "I mean don't you think we could stay here?"

"C'mon, Ellie, you know we have to keep moving. Besides, how am I supposed to get you more coloring books if we stay here?"

"That's true," she said solemnly, but then brightened up. "Maybe this time they will have crayons! My red one is almost gone," she points out, holding up a stubby red crayon as proof.

"Maybe," I said.

Once we were done, we began to walk again. Growing up in New York, we were pretty used to walking.

Ellie began to sing along the way. It's safer during the day, and I let her. She sings a song that used to be pretty popular—at least, that's what I think it is. Because Ellie is five and she can't remember all the words. She makes some up, and hums to fill in the blank.

Mom used to sing a lot. Ellie got her singing voice, and apparently I did, too, but I'd rather listen to music than sing.

Sometimes Ellie looks so much like Mom that it hurts. At least she wasn't around to see all this—no, she was gone before that. But I can't say which way would have been worse.

Gran and Gramps were nice enough, and without Gramps we wouldn't even be alive. He had this really impressive collection of western guns that I gazed at for hours. He's the one who taught me how to use the revolver I carry. I've had to use it in more than a couple occasions. Doesn't beat my (handmade and awesome) spear, but it has definitely saved us a couple of times.

The virus reached Gran first. She was frail, and when the symptoms set in she couldn't even act on them. Her life was swept away, and she crumbled very easily. It hit Gramps hard, but he was strangely okay when he fell ill, too. Very calm. Gramps was a smart man, and he knew what would happen. So he gathered up his collection and food and medical things, shoved them in both of our school bags, and sent us on our way. To where? The country.

We didn't go to the country.

Mostly because that's what everyone else was thinking, too. And once we started heading that way, the stench hit. Of course, it's worse here now, but there's something eerie about seeing hundreds of dead bodies where there should be tens of them. There's something frightening about the trees and the grass that seems so perfectly normal when in reality, everything has gone to shit.

Here, there's evidence of destruction. Here, I hardened. I don't sit and think about whether the people we saw dead had families, friends, pets, children. I don't think about whether they knew it was coming, or if they thought they were safe. Whether they had eaten that day, and if it was good. Were some kids with them when it happened? Were they chased down by the ones that hadn't died, and instead wanted to feed on them?

I shook my head. No, no. No, I don't think about that.

Ellie was singing something else. A lullaby.

Ellie is a small thing. At the sight of a body she'll cry. It was pretty inconvenient, because I hated to see her upset, but there was nothing to do. So whenever we'd pass one, I'd just cover her eyes. I covered her eyes a lot.

I didn't know where to go next. I remembered in history class when we talked about nomads, and that's what we were. Nomads. Uncivilized.

I've seen traces of other kids before, mostly their mulled bodies. Was there anyone left? Were Ellie and I the last of everyone?

It wasn't a comforting thought.

I was lost in thought when Ellie started to sing another song. This one, I've never heard before. I was confused until I heard the second voice.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath and snatched up Ellie. She yelled in protest until I clamped my hand over her mouth. I looked around and saw the source: through an alleyway, on another street, I could see two people walking. One of them was singing loudly while the other was laughing.

I looked seriously in Ellie's eyes and she stopped struggling.

"Stay quiet," I whispered, and held her hand. I silently jogged over to the alley. Did they hear Ellie singing? Who _were_ they?

I deposited Ellie near a dumpster and peeked out. Their backs were facing me. They weren't infected—I couldn't see any boils or lumps—and they both had bags of supplies. My grip tightened on my spear. Maybe I could just take one? One bag would last them both for at least a day.

It was a boy and a girl. I knew one was a girl because of the voice, despite her hair being chopped off. She was slim, and short compared to the boy next to her. Were they siblings? Like Ellie and me?

I almost sprinted out but I stopped when I saw the glint. One of them was carrying a machete, with a gun in his belt. The other one was carrying a spear, like mine, with a black bow slung over her shoulders. If she was any good, she'd get me before I could get her

I sighed.

They could be hostile. I glanced back at Ellie, who was fidgeting at her braid. She could hide if they attacked me. We were running out of food, and fast. If I didn't do this, we wouldn't live much longer.

I bit my lip and stepped out of the alley. Immediately I could see the girl tense. She stopped singing.

"It's okay," I called out, and now the boy spun around. The girl turned slowly, holding her spear out.

"What do you want?" The boy asked wearily.

"I'm—I'm desperate. We're running out of food—"

"We?" the girl asked, and I cursed under my breath.

The girl locked eyes with me. "It's okay," she said, repeating my words. "We won't do anything as long as you don't."

What would they want with Ellie, anyway? She didn't have anything of value. I looked between the girl and the alley.

"Ellie," I called out softly. "Come here."

I kept glancing at the two, and soon my sister stepped hesitantly out of the shadows. She ran behind me and hugged my leg.

"We're going to starve if we don't get supplies soon," I said in their direction, firmly holding Ellie's shoulder.

The girl looked at the boy, and whispered something to him. He faced away from us, putting his lips to her ear as she nodded. Just as he was turning back to us, the girl grabbed his arm and said something else, something I couldn't hear.

"We'll let you come with us," the boy said as he looked at me. "We know a place where we can stay. But if you try anything, you're dead."

Ellie whimpered from beside me and I backed up a little.

"What's your name?" the boy asked me.

"Will," I said, holding Ellie behind me. "And yours?"

"Remy," he answered. I looked at the girl.

She stared back at me until finally she answered. "Jocelyn."

"This is Ellie," I said, moving slightly so that they could see her. Ellie waved shyly before scampering behind me again.

We stood there awkwardly before Jocelyn walked up to me. Remy started to say something but she waved him away. She dropped her spear and her bow, and stopped several feet away from me, looking at me expectantly. It took me several moments before I dropped my spear.

She closed the distance and held out her hand. I took it and flinched instinctively. Her touch sent bolts up my arm, and her grip was surprisingly strong for a girl.

She looked straight into my eyes. Hers shot daggers, but I stared back. I was used to playing the intimidation game. Finally, the smallest of smiles played on her lips.

"You have a gun in the back of your belt," she said. "You don't trust me."

I did a double take. "How do you know?"

"I saw when you were getting Ellie. It's okay, because I don't trust you either, and I have a knife back there. I would have killed you before you could have pulled it out."

"Great," I muttered.

"I'm not going to hurt the kid. You, maybe. But only if you give me reason to."

"Fine," I said, shifting uncomfortably.

"We're stopping soon," she paused, and I could see the hesitation. "I hurt my leg. It's not bad anymore, but I have to keep it clean until it fully heals. Do you have any medical supplies?"

I hesitated to answer, which was enough for her.

"We aren't going to wipe you out, I promise. We're going to have to help each other," she said.

A question has been bothering me. "Where are you headed? What's this place?"

She looked at Ellie. "Somewhere with beds, showers, and clean clothes. And other kids."

Ellie immediately looked up and squealed. I shushed her but not before she detached herself from me and stumbled towards Jocelyn.

"There are kids my age?" she asked.

"How old are you?"

"Um," she held up five fingers. "Five."

"Connor's just about your age."

"My birthday is coming up." In reality, I didn't know. I figured, you know, that it had to be around July by now, and Ellie's birthday was in August.

"That's nice," Jocelyn said, and she looked at me strangely. Her voice was a little awkward.

"I like your singing," Ellie told her. "I heard you."

"Oh," Jocelyn said, looking back at Remy. He was standing back, and I noticed he was keeping his eyes on me. He walked up beside Jocelyn, never dropping his gaze.

"Are you… are you two siblings?" I asked, looking at the two of them. They didn't look much alike, but then again, neither did Ellie and I.

Remy barked with laughter and Jocelyn shook her head, glaring at him. He smirked at her.

"Okay?" I said, frowning.

"We aren't siblings," Remy said.

I shrugged and held Ellie's hand.

"Alright," Jocelyn said, "We'd better get going."

It was pretty awkward in the beginning. Remy took flank, and I was stuck in the front with Jocelyn and Ellie. Jocelyn never let go of her spear.

"So," I said, looking at her. "You aren't going to tell me where we're going?"

"I already told you. Somewhere safe." She paused. "No. Not until Remy trusts you."

"Why Remy?"

She looked at me and grimaced. "I have a problem with trusting people."

"I see," I said shortly, staring at the road ahead of me. "You don't have to worry about me. I don't betray people."

"And I know this how?"

"Because it's wrong," I pointed out.

She laughed bitterly. "Yeah. It's wrong. Doesn't stop people from doing it."

I guess I couldn't argue that.

-o-o-o-

Later on, I stood outside with Ellie as Remy and Jocelyn cleared a building. Once they were done, we settled down. Remy gave his sleeping bag to Ellie and me.

"What about you?" I asked. Ellie was so small that we both would fit easily.

"Don't worry about me, mon ami," He smiled and winked. Ellie hugged Remy around the legs. He looked slightly confused, but got over it.

I saw what he was talking about when he went over to Jocelyn. She had laid her sleeping bag on a torn up couch. Remy said something to her and she rolled her eyes and pointed to the floor. I could hear him laughing.

I brought Ellie over to the other side of the room and laid the bag down. I took my gun out of my belt and switched safety on, shoving it in the bag.

Facing away from the two, I got in and eased Ellie in with me. She immediately curled into me and closed her eyes. I wrapped an arm around her and closed mine, too. My hand closed around the revolver though. Just in case.

I hoped I wouldn't need it.

I slept dreamlessly. Ellie always calmed me down a lot, and kept me from getting too crazy. I had to keep it together for her. When I woke, Ellie was still snoring lightly into my chest. I gently unzipped the sleeping bag and rolled out. She just turned over and curled into a ball.

Jocelyn was on the couch with Remy, sleeping. She was facing away from him, but curled into his body like she _fit_ there.

It was then that I realized how lonely I had been. Sure, I had Ellie, but it had been months since I've had a conversation with someone who talks about more than which picture to color next.

I stood in the middle of the room pretty awkwardly. I thought about waking them up, but decided against it. They probably wouldn't appreciate it.

So I rummaged through my bag. Twice. There wasn't much to rummage through, anyway. I kind of threw things around, hoping that enough noise would wake everyone up. It worked.

"What's with the racket?" Remy asked, twisting to face me.

I shrugged. "Just taking count of things."

"How long have you been up?"

"About a half an hour."

Remy sat up and stretched, not bothering to wake Jocelyn. "First night she's slept really well," Remy told me. "Her leg's a lot better."

"What happened?"

His eyes flashed dangerously. "She stepped into a fight."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Because I was being stupid and picked a fight. That's why."

I tried to picture it in my head. Jocelyn didn't seem the type to put up with bullshit. Anyone's bullshit. "So you're together?"

"Nah," he said dismissively, but hesitated. "I mean, I don't know. Does it matter these days?"

"Just didn't think she was the type."

"She's not," Remy snorted. "I'm surprised she hasn't knifed me yet. Guess she's too hardheaded."

"Well, she did take a hit for you," I said, leaning back against a wall.

"I would have been killed otherwise," Remy replied. "She doesn't like people to die."

"And the other kid? What happened to them?"

"We got separated."

"You didn't kill him?"

"It's… complicated." And I could tell by the tone of his voice that it was.

"Was he a part of this place? Where the other kids are at?"

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, we have quite a few people there."

"How do things work there?"

"I don't know. Like normal?" He stood up, brushing off his jeans. He stared at me and tilted his head. "You like Rise Against?"

"What?"

"Your shirt."

Oh. I had taken my army jacket—which had belonged to Gramps—off, and under it was a t-shirt for one of my favorite bands. It was mostly covered in blood and sweat, but oh well. "Yeah," I said, shrugging. "What does 'normal' mean?"

"Guess you'll find out, right?"

I looked to Ellie. "Yeah, guess so."

Another half an hour passed before Remy went over to Jocelyn and woke her up. By waking her up, I mean him practically kissing her awake. I turned away in embarrassment and went to wake Ellie.

"Jesus, Remy," I heard. "You could have just pushed me off the couch or something."

I withheld a laugh. I picked Ellie up from the ground, and shifted so she was on my waist. Her head was rested in the crook of my neck as I reached down to grab the sleeping bag. I awkwardly rolled it up against my leg before Jocelyn took it from me and did it herself. She looked slightly disheveled, and her cheeks were pink.

"I'm sorry you have to put up with him," Jocelyn said, her eyes on me. By the smile on her lips, I could tell that she didn't mind all that much. "Remy's a cocky bastard."

"No problem," I said, and I vaguely remembered going to high school, where couples did those sorts of things all the time. This was different, though. We've all grown in a lot of ways.

"It's because of my speaking French," Remy said from across the room, rolling Jocelyn's bag up. "She's crazy for it."

"He's lying," she told me, rolling her eyes. "I don't even really like him all that much. He's incredibly annoying."

"Not what you said last night," Remy said airily, and Jocelyn glared at him.

"I could—"

"—Kill me, I know. She threatens me a lot," Remy said to me, and I smiled awkwardly. What does one even say in this situation?

"She even punched me once," he said, and I flinched. From the look on Remy's face, he noticed.

"We should get going," Jocelyn decided, eyeing Ellie. "Will she wake up soon?"

I shrugged. "She sleeps a lot. She'll be hungry when she finally wakes up, though. The kid is like a garbage disposal."

"And you'll carry her?"

"Well, yeah," I said, looking at them. "We have to get going, right?"

"Right," Remy said, smirking. "Let's get going, then."

And we did. The sun seemed to beat us, and its rays burned my skin. I started to sweat a few minutes in, since I was wearing a coat. But I didn't dare take it off. Remy was wearing a light grey jacket with the hood up, and Jocelyn was wearing a dark grey tank top that contrasted against her pale skin. She probably didn't tan well, just like Ellie. My skin—much like Remy's—was a lot darker.

Looking closer, I could see that Jocelyn had a lot of scars. Her left arm had wounds that seemed more recent, and red streaks crisscrossed from her shoulder to her hand.

I trailed behind the two, just observing them. Jocelyn walked more rigidly than Remy, like she was in the army. I could imagine what kind of person Jocelyn would be without her counterpart, and the result was probably more intimidating than she already was.

Something about Remy seemed familiar. I might have seen him skateboarding on the sidewalks one time, because he seemed the type—but something about him stood out.

His attitude, his voice.

I've been all around the city, and New York City was _huge_. But I felt like I've really seen him before. And he stood out.

My mind brings me back to a late night, in our stuffy apartment. Our means the apartment my Mom and Dad shared. There was screaming and sirens and Ellie was crying again though she didn't remember why. There was a sound of a man hitting a woman over and over and over again and me yelling because I was young and I was confused as to why Mom and Dad were fighting again. I was confused as to what I did wrong when Dad hit me, too, like he does whenever he gets upset with me. I was confused as to why when Mom fell asleep, Dad panicked and called the police and before I knew it Mom was in the hospital. We couldn't stay there, of course, and a lady had to ask us some questions and we ended up in a police department.

The lady apologized for our loss. I asked her what she meant and she left for a while. When she came back, she told me that Mom wouldn't come back. I started banging on the tables and then on the walls and then on the floor and when the lady noticed my bruises she left again for longer. Someone had taken Ellie at that time and I was alone.

Gran and Gramps were rung up and they were there soon. They had to be interviewed too, and I had to sit in the waiting room like a good kid.

I was pretty torn up, sobbing and pacing, when another boy was dragged in, kicking and punching at the police officers that were holding him.

"Let me go!" He yelled. "There's no way in hell I'm going there!"

The boy looked around my age, but he was dirty and his clothes were too big for him and his hair hung over his eyes. He locked eyes with me.

"Help me," he yelled at me. "They're going to take me!"

I froze. The police officers apparently thought it was over, since they had him in the station, because as soon as I started to say something, the boy ducked from their grip and sprinted out of the door. One of the officers swore loudly and chased after him.

I sat in that waiting room for hours. The boy never did come back.

But the boy standing in front of me has given me a pretty good idea of where he ended up.

-o-o-o-

Ellie was still sleeping—or at least half asleep—an hour later. My arms began to ache and it got harder and harder to walk and eventually, I was stumbling. I had to keep adjusting her, which she moaned and groan about until Remy came over and held out his arms.

"No way, man," I said. "Have you ever even held a kid?"

"Can't be that hard. Besides, Jocelyn's a wicked fighter and she probably shouldn't have a kid weighing her down."

"I can hold her."

"I'd rather you be handy in a fight," Remy said, more for my sake than his.

I shook my head but after a few more minutes of walking, I handed her over. Remy was a bit taller than me, and it was easy for Ellie to wrap her arms around his neck and cling to him.

"If you drop her I'll kill you," I warned him.

"Everyone just loves to threaten me, don't they?" Remy said as we caught up with Jocelyn, who hadn't bothered to stop.

"Just don't drop her."

Ellie was pretty panicked when she woke up in Remy's arms instead of mine, but Remy kept his word and didn't drop her. Instead, he held her out to me and I quickly set her down. After she had calmed down, she was pretty pink in the cheeks.

Jocelyn was smiling, and began to say something before we heard a scream. It was heart-wrenching, and suddenly I wasn't sure if it was an attack we were hearing.

I stopped in the middle of the street, along with Remy, but Jocelyn took off running.

Remy stood in confusion but moments later, his eyes widened. "Oh, shit."

And he ran too.

I ran as fast as I could with a five year-old, and eventually slung her over my back. I couldn't manage much more than a quick jog, and soon Remy was out of sight. I heard another scream and just ran in that direction. Turning an alleyway, I slammed straight into Remy, who was holding down a frantic Jocelyn.

"It's him! I know it's him!" she shrieked. "LET ME GO!"

She kneed Remy in the gut and he rolled over, groaning. She took the opportunity and sprinted away. Remy was struggling for breath and I let Ellie down.

"Watch her," I commanded. I only had time to see him shake his head before I took off after her.

Remy was not too far behind me. He was fast, probably faster than me without a kid on his back. Jocelyn was running like it was life or death, but judging by the scream it was.

Whose scream was it, though?

She turned a corner and I followed her, and ahead I saw them. Adults. Tens of them.

I saw Jocelyn pull her knife before I tackled her to the ground. She fell, and Remy skidded behind me, pushed me out of the way, and held her down. They wrestled until finally she was in a standing position, and he was holding her back.

"Grab her knife," Remy yelled at me, and I noticed that if Remy's hand wasn't over Jocelyn's mouth, she probably would have been screaming at the top of her lungs.

I lunged forward and grabbed it from her bound hand, almost getting sliced in the process. I looked out into the horde and saw what she saw. A boy with brown hair was down the street, just in view of Jocelyn. The only thing blocking them was a bunch of kid-eating monsters.

The kid seemed to be walking down the street in a daze. He kept grasping at his chest, like he was missing something. He was walking straight towards the adults.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Remy said, struggling to keep Jocelyn in check. Suddenly, she broke free, grabbed Remy's machete, and ran out onto the street.

Remy didn't hesitate as he ran after her.

All the while Ellie was crying silently behind me. She knew not to make noise around the monsters. I kneeled down.

"Stay here and hide," I spoke quickly and ran off. She was probably freaking out, but I had to help. Looking back, I saw her curl up near a dumpster, pulling her bag over her.

Looking forward, I saw hell break loose.

In the confusion, I don't think the boy saw us. Jocelyn was screaming for him and slashing away at adults, but the boy was almost… entranced. I saw him pull out a sword and swing at the adults, effectively decapitating one. He was yelling something, and over Jocelyn's own screaming and Remy's pleading, I could barely hear what.

"You killed her! You fucking killed her!"

"Freak!" Jocelyn screamed. "I'm here! I'm right here!"

With my own spear, I had already killed five of the adults. Every stab was a fatal one. There were about twenty left, and the boy was being surrounded.

At fifteen left, we couldn't see the boy.

At ten left, the boy suddenly cried in pain.

Five left. Jocelyn and Remy took care of the ones surrounding the boy.

None left. I stood in the street, watching Jocelyn kneel over a boy with torn clothes. I stumbled forward, getting a better look. There was a huge gash on his lower arm.

My vision went blurry, and all I could hear- or _see_- were pulses, coming from their direction.

"We have to tourniquet and cut!" I heard. Jocelyn was screaming as blood gushed from the boy in various spots.

"Freak!" she yelled at him. "Stay with me, you bastard!"

The boy named Freak looked up at Jocelyn and blinked. He frowned. "Jocelyn?"

"Yes, you stupid idiot," Jocelyn sobbed. Remy had tripped his belt and was using something—I couldn't tell what—to tourniquet the boy's upper arm.

"My… my arm feels funny," the boy whispered. His eyes were big and brown, and looked bloodshot.

"Will!" Jocelyn yelled at me. "Do you have any pain meds?"

I fumbled with my bag and produced a thing of Tylenol, the best I could offer at the time. Nonetheless she fumbled with the bottle and dropped about four in Freak's mouth. "Swallow them," she whispered urgently, and he did.

"Am I dead? You're dead…"

"You're not dead, Freak, and neither am I. We just got separated," Jocelyn was looking from his arm to the boy's face, tears streaming from her eyes. Remy grabbed his machete and looked at Jocelyn.

"Will, you have to hold him down."

"What?"

"Get some alcohol wipes from your bag. Remy, clean your machete. Do it now!"

Remy cleaned it the best he could with his hoodie, and frantically used the alcohol wipes to try to sterilize it. I stumbled forward and held the boy's legs down.

"Jocelyn, what are you doing?" Freak asked.

"Your arm has to come off before—before it gets infected."

"It already is. I'm going to see you. And my brother."

"Freak, no," Her voice got higher, and Remy positioned the machete on his arm. "I'm right here. Stay with me."

Freak coughed up some blood and it splattered on Jocelyn's face. He coughed again, more violently, and his face paled.

I blocked out Freak's screams and looked away as Remy began to cut. His body jerked against mine, and his cries were agonizing. He was screaming for them to stop, to please stop, to just kill him. Jocelyn was trying to yell over him, but it was no use.

It wasn't Remy's doing that caused it. Maybe Freak was right about it being infected, or the fact that we missed the stab wound in the small of his back that caused him to slowly bleed out. But soon Freak stopped yelling.

"No!" Jocelyn screamed, shaking his face, Remy was supporting Freak's body to press bandages to his back, which was the actual cause of the large pool of blood he was laying in, along with the bite wound. Freak was trying to say something, but he kept choking on blood.

Jocelyn leaned in really close as Freak coughed and managed to say it:

"My name is Tommy."


	13. Remy- Hopeful Undertone

**Hey guys so I had someone ask me about an update schedule. In truth, I don't have one. I usually write as I please, but if you guys would rather an update schedule, I could definitely do that. Tell me in the reviews what you think!**

**By the way, if you get the song reference in this chapter, put it in the reviews. I'll love you. **

**Also, if you'd like to submit an OC, pm me. Trust me when I say that there are going to be new characters—and lots of them. **

Remy- Hopeful Undertone

Eventually, after the boy Will had gone to sleep, Jocelyn agreed to let me sleep on the couch with her. I did, after all, chase away all her nightmares.

I pecked her jawline, trailing down her neck as she closed her eyes. I ran my hand down her arm and smiled against her skin as I felt the goose bumps.

"Don't flatter yourself," Jocelyn breathed.

"To what do you owe this excitement, then?"

"Shut up," she said and I kissed her lips. She melded into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me closer to her. I gently bit her lip as she pulled away, and she sighed.

"Are you ready to admit it yet?" I asked, tracing a scar on the back of her hand.

"Admit what?"

"That you like me."

"That wasn't obvious?"

"I want to hear you say it," I smirked as she brushed some hair out of my eyes.

"What about you, huh? I don't hear any sappy confessions from you."

"I don't do sappy."

"Good. I don't either."

"Being excessively sentimental has never been a strong point of mine," I continued. "But I suppose I could answer some of your questions that you're probably dying to know."

Jocelyn tilted her head at me. "Okay, whatever. Why are you so arrogant?"

"It's in my blood, chérie," I smiled.

"Where'd you learn to kiss?"

"You think you're my first girlfriend?"

"I'm not your girlfriend. What were they like?"

"Nothing like you," I answered.

She snorted. "You probably say that to all of them."

"Any more questions?"

"Yeah. Are you only interested in me because you think I'm attractive?"

"What would you do if I said yes?"

"I don't know," she said, frowning. "I think I'd be pretty pissed. Maybe. But then… I don't know."

"It's not because of that," I told her. "Maybe when I first saw you, but that changed once you started talking."

"Why, then?"

"You're seriously asking me why I'm into you?"

"You don't have to answer," she said, turning over and laying down. I chucked and wrapped and arm around her, leaning to whisper into her ear.

"You're very strong," I whispered. "In a way a lot of people aren't."

She shivered.

"You jumped in front of a damned sword because you were afraid someone would die. You would die for someone. And when there's nothing worth living for, that's the key. Finding something worth dying for."

"I did it because you would have done it for me," she whispered.

"And what do you think that means?"

"You said you weren't going to be sappy. You're being sappy. Can we not be sappy?"

"I'm not being sappy."

"Can I go to sleep now?"

"Sure thing."

She was quiet.

And then: "You're pretty likeable. Sometimes. Rarely."

-o-o-o-

"No, no, no," Jocelyn pleaded, tears streaming down my face. "Stay with me, Tommy. Stay with me."

Freak didn't move.

"God_dammit_ Freak," she cried, roughly wiping the blood off her face.

I stared in horror at his body, at the bloody machete in my hand, at the limb that I had just cut off.

Will looked at me, and seemed slightly green. I nodded at the alley, where he left Ellie. He got up, reached in his bag, and tossed me something silver.

A lighter.

"Jocelyn," I said softly.

"_No_," she yelled. "If we had just moved faster—if they didn't think we were dead—_I dropped my damned walkie-talkie_—"

"It's not your fault," I told her, reaching out to her but stopping when I realized my hands were covered in blood.

"Maybe—Maybe we can carry him back and Mary can fix him. Right?"

"No."

"Remy, please."

"I'm right here, chérie," I promised, clutching the lighter in my hand. I held it out to her and dropped it in her open palm.

"Why'd you do this?" she whispered to Freak's—Tommy's—body. Her voice got higher and she was yelling at him. "_Why'd you do this_?!"

She squeezed her eyes shut and stood, flicking on the lighter and tossing it at his body.

She didn't look as his body burned.

She reached out, and moments later I was holding her, pressing her into my chest. I held her as she sobbed into my shirt, and as the smoke became too much.

"We have to go," I whispered.

She nodded against me and pulled away, wiping at her face and sniffing. She didn't meet my eyes.

I intertwined my hand in hers and walked back towards the alley. Will was sitting there with Ellie, his head in his hands. When we came he looked between the two of us and grimaced. He stood and picked Ellie up.

We left the boy there burning. There was nothing left to do.

We didn't walk quite as fast. Jocelyn didn't sing. Once Ellie caught on, she didn't either. We walked for two hours before the hotel was in sight.

Jocelyn would have been running by now. Running to push through the doors and running to tell her family that yes, yes she was okay. But she didn't.

They must have had people on the roof. Kids started screaming Jocelyn's name, and I wonder if the sound would be carried down to the lobby. The guards must have been in too much shock, though, because Kenny didn't know we were here until we walked right in.

For the most part, I ignored the yelling and the cheering and the sobbing. Jocelyn was tucked under my arm and cringed when people hugged her. Will and Ellie stood back awkwardly.

The only time Jocelyn really woke up was when Connor did.

"What's the noise?" Connor came into the lobby, yawning. He looked at everyone, his eyes falling upon us and his mouth dropping open.

He ran to Jocelyn, jumping in her arms. She held him, too, and cried. She cried and cried and cried and the boy didn't let go.

"I knew you wouldn't break your promise," I heard him whisper to her.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

Kenny finally must have heard the commotion, because he came out of his room with Ethan. He saw Jocelyn and Connor, shook his head and frowned. He made his way through the crowd and stood in front of her.

"Jocelyn?" he asked, as if making sure she was real.

She could barely say yes before he, too, crushed her in a hug, with Connor between them.

They stood there for a few minutes while I dropped my bag on the ground and turned to Will. He looked pretty shocked at the crowd, obviously not used to so many people at once.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Kenny.

"Thank you," he said, before dropping his hand.

I nodded at him.

Everything else happened in a blur. One of the kids gave Ellie and Will a room—Connor offered for her to stay in the 'kids' room, but she didn't feel so comfortable yet. The last thing I saw of him that day was him on his knees in his new room, hugging his younger sister.

Jocelyn visited Mary. She stayed there all night, and didn't argue when I stayed with her. Mary said the leg probably wouldn't get infected, and that it would be fully healed soon.

She also gave Jocelyn some kind of pan medicine that knocked her out really quick. It didn't take a genius to see the look in her eyes and know to be scared.

"What happened?" Mary asked me quietly.

"Freak died."

Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth. "Oh my God," she whispered. "He went missing—we sent a search party—"

"Send them back," I said dryly.

"We thought he had left the group," she said. "Jocelyn was the only reason he stayed."

"He walked straight into a horde," I told her, holding Jocelyn's hand. "Straight into one."

She left then, and I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

-o-o-o-

"She's not in shock," Mary told me. "She's seen a lot of death. Freak was just so close…"

I thought about how Jocelyn watched her damned father die.

"Maybe she just broke," Ethan suggested and I glared at him.

"Shut up," I said, and he did.

"Remy was with her," Talia said. "What… what happened?"

I looked at her and shook my head.

"Then what happened to _her_?" Kenny demanded.

I thought about her. She hasn't really been herself at all lately. She's been in her room most of the time, not even bothering to attend this meeting. Everyone was worried, of course, because out of everyone, they wouldn't have expected it from her.

"Sometimes to stay alive," I said, "You've got to kill your mind."

"That's what the adults do," Kenny growled.

"And we haven't?" Payton asked. "We've all killed. Even some of the little kids. We aren't like we used to be. But we do it to survive."

"Depression is inevitable," Mary said, exasperated. "But it's the last thing we need. The last thing. People lose the will to live."

"Why _should_ we live?" Ethan threw his hands up. "It's not like we are going to get out of this hellhole."

Then people started arguing, yelling over each other, before Mary stood and told us to all shut up.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about! If there's any hope for us, we can't be thinking like this!"

"Mary's right," I said. "We'll all die one day. But we can't let this kill us all. At least not without a fight."

"We're _tired_," a boy named Perry said. "We're tired and we want to see our families."

At that, Mary stood and left, lingering in the doorway.

"My mom died trying to find a cure. She was one of the first ones, probably because she worked with the sick a lot. _She died trying to save us," _Mary spat. "I will _not_ let her work go to waste. She didn't die in vain."

And she left.

"We've all got stories," Kenny said quietly. "They make us. But we can't let them destroy us."

Finally, he had something smart to say.

"I say we finally settle down, for real," Payton said. "We recruit kids around the city. We can clear the whole fucking city."

"That's impossible," Ethan argued.

"Have a better idea?" Talia asked.

"A cure," Perry offered. "We need cures if we're going to last long."

"Mary could be in charge of that," Payton said. "The adults did it. Why can't we?"

"They were smarter," Ethan said.

"But they're dumb now. Now, we're the smart ones." Payton stood and looked around the table. "The reason everything is so chaotic now is because there's no order. We used to have policemen, doctors, teachers, mothers, fathers… and now we don't. And we're scared. But we were going to grow up anyway. All those adults would have died anyway. We just have to take over a little early."

"We have to get Jocelyn on board," Kenny said.

"Remy can do that," Payton waved him off. Kenny didn't look entirely happy at that.

I shifted in my seat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do it."

"Good. I'm going to go talk to Mary," Payton said. Talia and Kenny followed her.

Ethan looked to me. "You don't seriously think this will work, do you?"

"We have to try," I told him. "We've made it this far."

-o-o-o-

I let myself into her room. She was lying in her bed, as usual. She didn't say anything as I brought her some jerky.

"You have to get up," I told her.

"I do," she said, nibbling on her jerky.

"I know it's hard, chérie, but we need you. I need you."

"Thought you weren't the sappy type," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry. About him."

"It's okay," her voice broke.

"You know it isn't."

I slid in bed with her and she curled up against me. "You have to be there for everyone," I said. "I know it isn't fair. It really fucking isn't. But you give them hope."

"Why me? Why can't Kenny or you or Mary?"

"Because you're fucking amazing, Jocelyn."

"Are you okay?" she asked me.

"I don't know. Right now? Sure. I'm okay."

She sat up. "Tommy is alright now, yeah? He's not suffering anymore."

"Right," I told her, rubbing her back.

"He left me here but I've got a job to do," she said, setting her jaw. "And you'd better do it with me."

"Through it all, chérie, through it all."

**Quick chapter and I know I just updated but I had this written. Once again, pm me to submit an OC and tell me if you got the reference to a certain song in this chapter. Tell me in the reviews! Also, tell me what you think the update schedule should be. **


	14. Sniper- Progress, I Thought

Sniper- Progress, I Thought

"Any report on Group 2?"

"That's a negative. Nobody's left since the girl came back."

"I told you, we should have approached earlier, while they were weak. Do you really think she'll join us?"

"She will, or we'll kill them. Simple."

The boy left, gone to tell Jonah of the news. I could never anticipate Jonah's reaction, so I wasn't sure if he would be pleased or outraged at the news.

I watched through my binoculars. We had moved base after Group 1 was covered. This window provided excellent views of the hotel, so much that I could see their guards on the roof. But they couldn't see me.

They called me Sniper.

Sniper, because if I had to, I could pick off every one of those guards right here. Sniper, because if I really tried, they would all be headshots. Sniper because they wouldn't have time to run, or duck, or scream.

Jonah was already upset that they were gaining people. I told him that it hardly mattered, considering they lost a member as they gained one. The little girl was irrelevant, only one more thing holding them back. Another mouth to feed.

Group 1 was way easier to cover. Once we had our wits about, it took about a week. They were predictable, easy to manage. They were afraid. And so they joined us.

This group, Group 2, was different. They were more organized. Even at the park, they had a system. We could have changed that once the girl and thief were separated for a few days, but Jonah wanted the girl. She was strong.

I assumed Jonah wants to take her back to home base. We are only a branch, assigned to control other populations. Imagine, he'd say, if he was part of our army? Imagine if all of them were?

I kept it to myself, but somehow I knew they wouldn't give in too easily. It'd be much easier just to kill them all now.

I worked long after my shift was over. Another Watcher came, saw me, and left. I would not be leaving.

-o-o-o-

I walk to the roof once it becomes dark. Watchers are only useful during the day.

This base is much smaller than our last, and minute compared to home base. I am one of the few girls here, but still, they assigned us all to one room. The girls there forgot to mention that I never end up in that room. They were probably thankful.

It was considerably cool for July. I tucked myself into my sleeping bag. My hand, of course, was closed around a pistol. Just in case anyone got any funny ideas.

It was routine for whoever was on patrol to make rounds on the roof. They had lights, something I had access to, but wouldn't want to draw attention with. Usually, Patrollers slack. Unfortunately for me, tonight they didn't.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Someone kicked me in my sleeping bag, and I sat up, pistol pointed at their face. I had to squint due to their flashlight shining directly at my eyes.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Sniper," he said. "Didn't know you were up here." I could tell by the voice that it was a boy. Not sure of his name. Didn't matter.

"Leave," I told him, turning over in my sleeping bag. I didn't hear footsteps. "And if you were smart, you wouldn't report this."

"Right," the boy mumbled, and he shuffled away.

I hated being interrupted. What if he had caught me in an episode?

It happened almost every night. I used to see a therapist before there were no therapists anymore, and for a while it got better. But now, when every day could be the day of your death, it's gotten worse. At least once a night. Maybe more.

The worst part is, I can't feel it coming on until it is happening. Maybe a bit of tingling before, but that's it. And then suddenly I'm paralyzed, and something's pressing into my chest, cracking my ribs…

My hallucinations used to be monsters. But now I know that monsters are dumb. Stupid. Slow.

Now, my hallucinations are of other people.

I always tried to remember myself. I couldn't say it was a dream, because it wasn't. My mind wasn't asleep, but my body was. That's why I couldn't move my fingers or toes or lift my head up to call for help.

If somebody else had been looking, they wouldn't see anything too out of the ordinary. Maybe my breath would be quick, or my eyes going back and forth. But I'd see so much more. There were people everywhere. Kids, reaching at me. _And I couldn't move_.

When it ended, I had to get up and walk around for a while to prevent another episode. I was often sleep deprived because of this. Before, I could sleep all day and my mom would understand. Here, I have a job to do.

Sleep paralysis sucks.

It would make my days a lot easier if I didn't have it. But maybe it's for the best. It scares the shit out of me, scares me more than crazies, but it's not even real. Kind of like a practice for me. To not be afraid.

It happened three more times once I laid down, back to back. After that, I guess my brain decided it was done with playing games and I slept dreamlessly. One more night out of the way.

I was usually an early riser. But today, someone decided to shake me awake.

"Sorry, Sniper. You have to get up. Jonah said we are leaving early today. Don't want to get in trouble, do you?"

It was the voice of the boy from last night. I opened my eyes to see him standing there, tall and lanky with a mop of blond hair on his head. He was fidgeting.

"Okay," I said and got up.

"No 'thanks'?" he asked, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.

"I'd say you're lucky you weren't shot last night. You owed me one for hesitating."

"A Watcher saw a group leave the hotel early this morning. We don't think it's for scavenging."

I pulled my long black hair into a ponytail. "What else could it be for?"

"You know Jonah. He thinks they're trying to recruit people."

"And if they are?"

"He wants to make a move soon, before they get too powerful."

"They already are powerful. There are ten of us and thirty-five of them."

"He, uh… he sent someone out to home base."

I stared at him. "You're kidding, right? That's at least a day away. When they get here, they won't be looking to make a peace treaty. You think that psycho will want to make friends with them considering how skilled they are?"

"Hey, I don't make the rules around here. And I'd be careful with what you say."

"It's not like you'll say anything," I say, my voice more or less threatening. "I'll talk to Jonah. See if I can convince him to stop whoever went out."

I think I heard a "good luck", but I didn't stop to check. Shoving my gun into my belt, I jogged to the roof entrance, ran down the stairs, and out into the hallway. I smoothed my shirt out as I walked down the halls of the so-far barren building. The Patroller boy must have been up all night and into the morning. He probably sleeps during the day.

He was right, though. I ran into a couple of people on my way to see Jonah. People weren't usually up this early. I met eyes with one of the girls I was supposed to be sharing a room with, and she briefly looked relieved. It wouldn't do for Jonah to find out I wasn't where I was supposed to be. And the girls didn't know where I actually went.

I knocked on our mapping door. Jonah would be in there, drawing out possible attack plans. He was smart in those ways. In war.

Sure enough, he answered the door and leaned against the frame. "Come for some release, Sniper?"

"Not today, not tomorrow, not ever, sir." I said, ducking under his arm and walking into the room. I looked over his maps. One of the things that bugged me about Jonah was that he insisted on everyone calling him 'sir'. Just because he was of higher authority.

"What do you think?" he asked from behind me.

"I think that if it comes to an attack, we'll need more people," I said, a light touch to my voice. For all he knew, I didn't have information yet.

He put his hands on my waist and peered over my shoulder. I had to keep myself from elbowing him in the nose. "Don't you worry, Sniper. I have it covered."

"Do you?" I asked. "How, exactly?"

"We'll be getting about thirty more people in a couple of days. Obviously their kids can't fight, and that leaves only about twenty of them. We'll be double their numbers, with better weapons and better fighters."

"Sir, you're an idiot," I said, and he dropped his hands.

"Just because you're good at shooting, doesn't mean you can't respect me," he growled. "I'm in charge of you."

"Sure thing, Captain Jonah," I drawled out. "But you're missing something."

"What?"

"They won't give up. Not with something to protect. We've been watching them for a couple months now. They fight hard. Hell, four kids alone took out forty adults. They aren't afraid."

He grinned and took a knife out of his belt. "Maybe they can handle adults. But tell me, Sniper, do they have the will to kill someone just like them?" He mimicked slitting his own throat. "You said it yourself. They're determined to survive. So why would they kill other kids?"

"The girl won't let you near her group."

"Everyone has a breaking point," Jonah told me. "Even her. We have so much on her, in fact. The boy. The kid."

"If you kill any of them, she will hunt you down," I promised, because I knew. She was my personal favorite to watch. The way she moved, the way she shaped her words. I couldn't tell what she was saying, but I could feel the menace in it.

"Exactly. She'll come right for us," Jonah said, obviously pleased with himself. "And we can keep her. We can _shape_ her. She'll be good, I know it."

"Jonah, don't send out for more troops. We can handle them. We'll approach them today, even. Offer them a place with us. And if they refuse, we leave them alone for a couple of weeks. Make them think that they're safe. And then take care of them."

He _tsk'd_ at me. "And what will you do for me in return?"

Yeah, Jonah had this thing for me. It was disgusting. Even before we were sent out in the same troop, he pursued me. And now that he was my captain, he thought he could have me.

"I might consider getting the girl myself," I told him, leaning against the wall. "I could make her trust me, make her follow me."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'll send for someone to stop Pablo from going any farther. We won't do anything rash today. I'll give you two days to figure out an approach. If we lose anybody, it's your head."

I nodded and started to walk out.

"Oh, and Sniper," he said, stopping me before I could exit. "Make sure that if we attack, you leave the useful ones. We don't need anyone slowing us down."

"Sir?"

"I don't need anyone under the age of ten. Anyone sick goes. That one boy goes. He causes trouble."

I swallowed. "Yes, sir."

By "that one boy", he was referring to the same leverage he had over their leader. The boy she's always seen with, the one that got into the fight with the blond. The one she kisses and holds hands with when she thinks no one is watching.

Unfortunately, he's practically destined to die.

What Jonah wants, Jonah gets.

-o-o-o-

A party was sent out to follow theirs. They are to find out their goal and report back. They are not to raise any suspicion from anyone.

I offered to go, but Jonah wouldn't let me. Said I'm a much better Watcher. But the girl hasn't been out in forever, and I get bored watching immature kids hocking loogies over the side of the hotel wall.

The plan is that in two days, we would send out a group to the actual hotel. Act as peacemakers. Try to coax them out, and make them feel safe with us. Then we'd separate them, take who would be useful, and kill the rest.

Pleasant, right? We're such decent human beings.

I assigned amateurs to watch the building. We didn't actually need anyone watching, because we'd have snipers on the roofs surrounding. Not me, most unfortunately, because I had a private mission.

The boy and girl would be together, most likely. I just needed to outsmart them.

We discovered a while back that the blond and the boy were not on the best of terms. In fact, they got in a fight which resulted in the girl getting injured. I was assigned to terminate the boy, and to frame the blond. Him just finishing what he started.

Then, the girl could kill the blond. Killing two birds with one stone.

It's a shame, because the blond was a good fighter. But I've seen the girl enraged before. He would not survive.

That is, if she believes me. If she doesn't, I could bind her before she could try to kill me. If that doesn't work, I would just slit her throat.

Oops, I would tell Jonah, I slipped.

I didn't really want to kill her. I tried not to think about her, the girl I've been watching for some time now. Sometimes, if you're not careful, you could feel close to your targets. Sometimes, you could feel like you know them.

I don't know this girl, I reminded myself. She's nothing to me.

I'm supposed to assign a group to everyone. I give the fighters to Travis. He looks trustworthy, and he's good with a sword. He'll be partnered with Wendy. Together, they'll lead the skilled ones away. They'll tell the group that the kids are in trouble.

Which left the kids.

I held my breath. If I gave them to amateurs, they'd make them suffer. I looked at the list of names and bit my lip.

Marcus. Suddenly the name matched the face on the roof. The boy with blond hair.

Yes, I'd match the kids with him. He'd take care of them. Quickly and painlessly.

We had a meeting later on that day where I debriefed the plan. Many questions were asked and answered. Travis and Wendy seemed pretty thrilled to have such an important job. The ones I deemed amateur even seemed pretty pleased considering they weren't usually given a lot of responsibility.

When I told Marcus of his job, he didn't say anything. He locked eyes with me, and shook his head in the slightest. Nobody else would have noticed.

I took deep breaths.

And left for the roof.

-o-o-o-

About an hour later, before my shift, Marcus came to the roof.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he growled, and I turned around.

"Do you have a problem with your orders?" I asked him.

"I'm not going to kill a bunch of kids!"

"You were sent with this troop for a reason. You have killed before."

"Not like this!" he yelled. "I've killed those with the disease, yeah, and rogue fighters. Not little kids! Not for nothing!"

"It's for the good of the home base," I said calmly, saying what Jonah would. "More mouths mean less food. Do you like to eat?"

His mouth snapped shut as he glared at me. I turned back towards the hotel, staring at the kids on watch. They would be dead soon, most likely.

Did Marcus think this was easy? It wasn't. Jonah told us throughout training. We weren't meant to be sympathetic. We weren't meant to have hearts.

We were killers. And we killed who needed to be killed and we brought back who didn't.

I didn't have to look to know that Marcus left. More like stomped away, really. He'd get over it. We all did.

He shouldn't be in this troop if he can't kill. My training consisted up killing constantly, going out on missions to clear out a horde or to find thieving nomads. It's never been hard. They were hindering my ability to survive.

And survival is all that mattered.

**If nobody has guessed the song yet, I guess you won't so I might as well tell you. It was Migraine by twenty | one | pilots. Check it out. It's kinda weird but I'm kinda weird. **


End file.
